In the Vaults of Camelot
by Vanvdreamer
Summary: Strange sounds coming from the vaults below the castle result in an unexpected journey for Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon. Follows The Royal Crest of Camelot, but can easily be read as a stand-alone. No slash. Rated T for injury to characters. AU - Gwaine wasn't banished.
1. Chapter 1 - Vault

**Summary: Strange sounds in one of the vaults result in an unexpected journey for Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon.**

 _Author's note: This story follows The Royal Crest of Camelot. However, it can easily be read as a stand-alone. There are only three things you need to know: 1) Gwaine knows Merlin's secret, 2) Merlin has learned some new spells, and 3) Arthur has been told that there is a sorcerer named Emrys who is his protector, living in secret in Camelot._

 _I don't own Merlin._

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 1 – Vault**

"The eastern vault, it, ah, it _growls_ , Sire."

Prince Arthur raised a haughty blonde eyebrow and stared in elegant disbelief at the young guardsman standing before him in the summer sunlight. Merlin, standing nearby holding the prince's shield, suppressed a chuckle. He looked away from the current sparring match between Gwaine and Leon and drifted closer so that he could hear better over the shouts and metallic crashes of knights and soldiers at drill. The breeze ruffled his hair and caused the pennants along the entrance to the training yard to ripple softly as the guardsman began again, clearly having realized that he had better improve his report to the prince.

"Sire, a few days ago, we began to hear faint noises from inside the vaults. When we entered the vaults to investigate, there was nothing there; we didn't report it at that point. However, the sounds have become slowly louder and more distinct over the last two days, and are quite clear this morning: the growls of a large animal. The sounds seem to be coming periodically from the section of the eastern wall with all the old carvings. Captain Davissen sent me to inform you of the matter, and to ask if you would be able to meet him in the vaults. At your convenience, of course, Sire."

Though the original statement had sounded somewhat comical, this clearer description was causing a chill to run up Merlin's spine in spite of the almost-too-warm morning. Merlin knew better than to mention it to the prince; Arthur's opinions about Merlin's 'bad feelings' were never complimentary. As Arthur gestured to the young guardsman to wait and began firing orders, Merlin reached down to pick up the water skin slumped against the fence post. The medical kit lay next to it, set there by Gaius who knew the kinds of lumps and slashes the knights collected routinely during drill and sparring. Acting on impulse, Merlin slung the kit over his shoulder before lifting the water skin to his lips to drink.

Arthur ordered Leon to accompany him, delegated supervision of the drill to another knight, and bade everyone else to return to their duties. Merlin, of course, followed Arthur as he strode off toward the keep. Gwaine winked at Merlin and did the same. Merlin couldn't hear Arthur's sigh, but saw it in the movement of his shoulders. Evidently Arthur had chosen not to object, which was perhaps just as well. Gwaine rarely did as he was told anyway.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A pair of guards stood at the entrance to the stone stairway leading down to the lower levels of the keep. They hastily snapped to attention as Arthur swept through. Merlin nodded a greeting to them as he passed. He could feel his palms growing damp as they descended the stairs into the cool dimness of the lower levels of the castle. That feeling was back with a vengeance; Merlin was sure something bad was about to happen.

When Arthur and his party reached the vaults, they found Captain Davissen deep in consultation with Geoffrey of Monmouth, the venerable keeper of records. They seemed to be discussing the carvings on the wall, comparing them to a thick yellowed tome Monmouth had open in his arms. They turned and bowed to Arthur as he entered the room and then both began talking at once.

"My apologies, Sire, for -"

"Sire, these markings-"

They were interrupted by a sound that made Merlin's hair stand on end. It was indeed a growl, but a growl so deep that Merlin could feel it in his bones as much as hear it. It seemed to be coming directly from the wall.

Monmouth and Davissen took an involuntary step back from the wall. Arthur's sword was suddenly in his hand. A solid clank from the hallway suggested that one of the guards had started so violently that he'd crashed into the wall.

For several seconds, nobody moved. Then Arthur slid his sword back into its sheath and turned to regard Monmouth and Davissen, who were still staring at the wall.

From where he stood, Merlin studied the wall. There was a large circle of symbols carved deeply into it, skirting the floor at its base and arcing up well above Merlin's head. Though Merlin could not translate any of them, he believed he'd seen these symbols, or at least something very like them, in one of Gaius' books: a book Gaius made sure was put away unless the door was locked.

"Sire," Monmouth tried again, stroking his gray beard anxiously while balancing the book against his chest. "I've been attempting to translate these markings – without success, I'm afraid – but I have identified the script. It's an ancient mode of writing sometimes seen at shrines of the old religion. Quite odd to find it here in Camelot."

Arthur pulled off a glove and stepped up to the wall, reaching up to brush one of the symbols with his fingertips. "Odd indeed-" he had started to say when the circle of script carved in the wall began to glow brightly, starting where Arthur had touched and spreading quickly in both directions until the full circle was illuminated. The stone of the vault wall inside the ring of symbols disappeared, leaving a gaping darkness in its place. Then the glow of the carvings seemed to leap off the wall. It whirled around Arthur, who braced himself against an apparent pull in the direction of the hole.

Time seemed to slow down. Merlin felt as though he were moving through honey as he lunged forward, hoping to grab Arthur and drag the prince away. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Leon trying to do the same. As soon as Merlin's hand came in contact with Arthur's arm, however, it was as if a huge wind arose behind him, shoving him toward the emptiness inside the circle. Struggle as he might, he too was being inexorably pushed into that maw. A heavy body hit Merlin at an angle just as the wind seemed to pick him up and fling him sprawling through the circle. Then the wind was gone.

Merlin wriggled out from under what turned out to be Gwaine's weight and stood up. For a dizzying moment the stone wall with its ring of carvings seemed to stand in front of him, though he was sure it should be behind him. Then as his gaze completed an arc around him, he understood. This was not the vault. He was on the other side of the wall, looking at another circle of script in a solid stone wall. Merlin put his ear to the wall, careful not to touch the carvings, but could hear nothing of the men in the vault on the other side. The wall must be incredibly thick. Merlin quickly checked the contents of the medical kit which had taken quite a jolt. All was intact, even the heavy glass jar of Gaius' precious healing salve infused with herbs to combat infection.

Merlin looked around at the rest of the group. Gwaine was climbing to his feet, apparently unharmed. The prince was pulling Leon upright and inspecting their surroundings. They seemed to be in an underground chamber hewn roughly from the rock. There was light, much to Merlin's astonishment, coming from a pair of torches set in brackets on either side of the circle through which they had just come. Tunnels led out of the chamber into darkness in two directions. As his gaze returned to the circle of script, something caught Merlin's attention. Stepping forward to look more closely, he could see that the characters were marred by fine parallel scratches.

"Sire," came Leon's voice from the other side of the room, "you should see this."

Leon was kneeling near the wall opposite the circle looking at the floor. When Merlin approached with Arthur and Gwaine he noticed for the first time that the floor was covered with a thick layer of fine dust. Near the circle, it was thoroughly scuffed with the imprints of fallen bodies and many footprints. In other places, it was completely undisturbed. Leon pointed at a path in the dust that traveled between the two tunnels.

"There's a path, Sire. And look here."

Merlin looked. There was a paw print in the dust. It was easily as big as Merlin's hand with fingers outspread.

Gwaine and Leon and Arthur looked at one another.

"Somebody's hound got fed too much?" suggested Gwaine.

"Dog? Maybe. Or wolf," amended Leon. "The path is very consistent. Dog tracks tend to wander more. And look, the toes are all the same length. Probably wolf."

Arthur crouched down and measured the print with his hand, then stood back up. "Based on the size…" He looked at Leon. "Perhaps six feet at the shoulder?"

"At least, Sire. Possibly even a bit larger."

Merlin looked around at the walls. The only scratches were the ones he had already found on the circle. Another chill went through him. He eyed the yawning black passages suspiciously, then turned to the prince.

"Arthur," said Merlin. "There are scratches on the wall where we came through, but nowhere else. Why would a wolf scratch only the section of the wall with writing on it?"

Arthur shook his head but said nothing in response as he walked over to look where Merlin indicated. Leon joined them. "The spacing is right," he said. "But Merlin is correct – a wolf wouldn't normally scratch the wall like this."

Arthur seemed to be about to comment when suddenly the shadows around them leapt wildly. Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled to face the threat, expecting huge teeth in his face, only to discover that Gwaine had pulled one of the torches out of its bracket and was waving it around.

Gwaine chortled at their startled expressions as Merlin tried to get his heart to stop racing. "Look," he said, and put his hand directly into the flame of the torch. "It's magic. It's got to be – it's not even warm." He pulled his hand out of the flame and wiggled his fingers to demonstrate that they were in fact unharmed.

Arthur stalked over to the young man and snatched the torch out of his hand with an icy glare. "Play with the torch later, Gwaine. Let's work on getting back through that wall. Leon, keep watch please." He jammed the torch back into its bracket and returned to his perusal of the wall. Stripping off his glove, he looked over at Merlin. His face, under its usual calm expression, suggested an internal debate.

"Merlin, do you know anything about these symbols? Can you read them?"

Merlin shook his head. "Gaius might be able to, but…" He shrugged.

"Hmm. We could explore the tunnels. Possibly there is an opening. But doing so in the presence of a six foot wolf may not be simple. Or…" he paused, took a quiet deep breath. "Or we could try to trigger the magic again."

Gwaine and Merlin exchanged glances. The prince had learned to accept healing magic as a force for good. A bouquet of enchanted flowers still sat on his desk, courtesy of a certain little girl for whom magic was as natural as breathing. This was different. It was the magic of an unknown person, long ago, for an unknown purpose.

"Arthur," said Merlin quietly, "let me try. I think you triggered it when you touched it – let me."

"No. I'll do it." He called Leon back, gestured to Gwaine to approach, and spoke to all of them. "I am going to do what I did before. Hopefully it will reopen the wall. Each of you stay close and make contact in whatever way you did earlier."

Gwaine grinned. "You mean tackle Merlin again?"

"I'm sure tackling isn't necessary." Merlin jabbed Gwaine in the arm with his elbow.

Arthur rolled his eyes at the two of them and then raised his hand. "Ready?"

At their nods, he braced himself and touched a symbol.

The symbol flared to life, and light spread around the circle until it reached a particularly deep scratch mark.

The glow died.

Arthur tried again.

The result was the same.

"Well." Arthur's tone was even. "That answers that question. Gentlemen, shall we go explore the tunnels?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

After a brief discussion, the prince had decided to explore the tunnel to the left, following the path of the wolf. So they set off, bringing the two torches for light. Arthur took the lead with a torch in one hand and his sword in the other. Leon paced slightly behind him. Gwaine ushered Merlin in front of him, and appointed himself rear guard. Gwaine had been right – Merlin could feel magic emanating from the torch in his hand. Merlin was very grateful for those torches. Without them, he would have almost certainly had to reveal himself, for they could not have explored the tunnels without a light source, and being trapped in pitch black tunnels with a six foot wolf did not bear thinking about.

Travelling through tunnels lit only by the dancing light of the torches, with no daylight to judge by, Merlin quickly lost all sense of time. Arthur was leading them very methodically through the tunnels, always turning to the left when presented with a choice. Bit by bit, they explored, leaving the wolf's path and returning to it. The tunnels twisted and turned, but remained open enough for two to walk abreast. They all seemed the same to Merlin, but Leon apparently had a head for direction that was nothing short of magical. Every so often, Leon would draw in the dust for them the area they had explored so far.

"At this point," Leon said during one of those stops, "we must be well outside the boundaries of the keep itself. We're probably somewhere under the lower town."

"How long have we been walking anyway?" asked Gwaine. "My feet seem to think we've gone a couple of miles. And I'm getting hungry."

At the mention of food, there was a quiet moment. It had been almost lunch time up in the castle when they were pulled through the wall. Merlin pulled the water skin off his shoulder and handed it to Gwaine. "No food, sorry, Gwaine. But we should drink. Gaius says the best vessel for carrying water is the body."

Gwaine drank and handed the water skin to Leon, who passed it directly to Arthur without partaking. Arthur took a few swallows and handed it back to Leon with the order, "Drink." When Leon was done they continued on.

The passage seemed to wind on and on. Merlin's thoughts were beginning to do the same. Where was the wolf? Why did it scratch the carvings on the wall? Why was it here in this empty place? For that matter, why was the circle here?

He was deep in his thoughts, simply following the others, when the passage opened up into a very familiar chamber. The scratched circle stared at him, with its empty torch brackets on either side. Merlin halted in confusion.

Behind him Merlin heard Gwaine's voice saying in a tone of utter outrage, "Wait a minute! We're back here? Why are we **back here**?"

Merlin had been wondering the same thing. Was this some kind of magical trap? A loop from which there was no escape?

Leon spoke soothingly but with a note of suppressed amusement in his voice. "We've discovered that the wolf travels in a loop, and explored all the passages on the outside of the loop. Now we explore the inner passages. We're not lost, Gwaine. Calm down."

While Leon used another drawing in the dust to explain matters to the frustrated Gwaine, Merlin watched Arthur. The prince was used to maintaining a stoic demeanor, and now was no exception, but Merlin had gotten very good at reading him. Arthur was worried. He was watching the passages subtly. Merlin was sure he knew what the prince was thinking. Where was the wolf?

-o-o-o-o-o-

They began again, this time following the right side of the passage. The back of Merlin's neck kept prickling. Each time it did, he turned, expecting to see the wolf slinking silently through the dimness behind them. Yet, each time, he saw only Gwaine and an empty passageway. Where was the wolf? Desperation made him decide to use magic. Turning away from Arthur so that only Gwaine could see his eyes, he spoke the spell as quietly as possible and sent his sight out into the darkness behind them.

The effect wasn't quite what he had hoped. First, as soon as his sight moved beyond the range of the light cast by the torches, he simply couldn't see anything. He pushed out further, blundering like a blind man in his attempts to follow the winding corridors in the dark. Suddenly he realized that the passageways were not a limitation. He let his sight spread out in all directions, feeling rather than seeing.

Then, at the very edge of his range, he touched…something. He couldn't see it, but contact with it was painful and startling. It snapped the thread of his magic, slamming him back into his own body with a force that staggered him. He physically stumbled, and would have fallen without the support of the wiry arm flung across his chest.

"Whoa," said Gwaine, steadying him. "Easy. You okay?" He clearly wanted to ask what had happened, but evidently opted not to with Arthur nearby.

Ahead, Arthur and Leon had stopped and turned to watch. Merlin took a deep breath to steady himself, and keeping a light tone, replied, "I'm fine. I just tripped." He saw Arthur shake his head and turn to continue on. Gwaine looked at him quizzically, then tentatively released him. "Tried to check the passages," Merlin whispered to Gwaine. "There's something in here with us. Need to keep moving."

They continued on, Gwaine and Merlin keeping an anxious watch. After checking many more passages to the right, they discovered a tunnel that was very different from the others. It turned off to the right, but after several winding yards began sloping steeply upwards. Soon Merlin's thighs were aching with the uphill climb. Just when he thought his legs were simply going to fall off, the passage leveled out, came around a hairpin turn, and opened into a dimly day-lit chamber. In the center of the chamber, rising to its feet with a familiar bone-shuddering growl, was the wolf.

 **Hope you are enjoying the story so far - please let me know what you think! Comments, questions and constructive criticism are very welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Wolf

**Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon have been pulled through a magical door into a maze of tunnels inhabited by a gigantic wolf.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 2 - Wolf**

The wolf's growl vibrated the floor under Merlin's boots as the creature flowed to its feet. Its shaggy grey shoulders rose and rose. By the time the wolf was standing, everyone could see that at the shoulder it was as tall as Leon. Its bared teeth glinted dully in the dim light. Arthur and Leon, after a brief moment of surprise, moved into the room. At Arthur's gesture they split apart, confusing the beast as it tried to watch them both. After glancing from one man to the other, it lunged straight for Arthur. The prince's sword met it, slashing it across the muzzle, opening up a shallow gash. The creature snarled and recoiled, but attacked again. Gwaine sprinted past Merlin and flung himself into the fray just as Leon struck from the wolf's opposite flank. Neither blow seemed to greatly damage the wolf, but it seemed to resent the attack. It spun, and Merlin felt a pang of unease when it simply stared into Gwaine's eyes, growling. Startlingly, Gwaine went to his knees.

Arthur, closest to the fallen young man, got there first. He tried to lever Gwaine to his feet. The wolf turned its gaze on the prince, and Merlin, watching with horror, saw Arthur turn dead white and sway on his feet. He reached out with his magic to silently cast a shield spell over Arthur.

Somehow, the beast knew. That malevolent gaze swung around to Merlin, and Merlin felt a familiar and painful contact. This was what he had felt in the passageways. The pain of that contact broke Merlin's grip on the shield spell for Arthur, and the spell dissipated. As the wolf's gaze touched him, Merlin could feel a horrible pull around his shields, as if the wolf's gaze was trying to draw on his strength. He firmed up his shields, holding tightly. As he did so, the wolf attacked physically. The wolf's yellow-gray teeth flashed before Merlin's eyes as he tried to throw himself out of its reach. Those teeth missed his head but grazed his shoulder leaving his tunic torn and the skin below it smarting. The torch dropped from his hand to fall to the floor. Then Leon's sword slashed across the beast's snout. It whirled with incredible speed and knocked Leon to the ground. Huge teeth sank into the knight's upper arm and vicious claws tore at the armor along his chest and side.

Then Arthur was there. His sword slashed deeply into the wolf's shoulder. It was far from a killing blow, but the wolf seemed much taken aback. It sprang away and fled past Merlin into the darkness of the tunnel.

When the wolf disappeared into the shadows and did not immediately reappear, Merlin turned to survey the room. Gwaine was sitting on the ground with his head clamped in his hands, looking ashen and queasy. Arthur, still as pale as parchment, had crashed to his knees after striking the wolf and was staring into the dark passageway with a look of pained exhaustion. _Leon!_ Merlin scrambled to the knight's side and began trying to assess the damage.

Leon's mail had been torn by the wolf's claws and punctured by its teeth. Some of the individual rings had been forced open and driven into the wounds. The knight was conscious but clearly in a great deal of pain. Merlin glanced over at Arthur, who was still on his knees.

"Arthur, we have to get out of here. That thing is going to come back."

It took the prince a moment to muster any response at all.

"We will climb out."

 _Climb out? How?_ Merlin looked around in confusion.

Until that moment, Merlin hadn't really taken a good look at the chamber they had found. The room was roughly triangular, with a very high sloping ceiling. A small number of heavy wooden crates lay against one wall, and the remains of at least one other crate seemed to be strewn across the floor. The far wall, along which the crates were stacked, was carved with a series of deep horizontal grooves that climbed from floor to ceiling. Above the top groove, perhaps forty feet high, there was an opening in the ceiling through which daylight was spilling from a patch of blue sky.

Merlin, after cautioning Leon not to move, went to gather up Gwaine and help him over to Leon and Arthur. As he did so, he saw the prince climb wearily to his feet to grab Merlin's fallen torch and heave it down the passageway. _Good,_ thought Merlin. _We can see it coming from farther away._ Easing Gwaine down to sit next to Leon, he asked, "Are you all right? What happened?"

"I have no earthly idea," replied the young man. "When that wolf thing looked at me, all I could see was its eyes. Then all of sudden I felt like the morning after a three day drunk. My bones just all went to jelly. And even though the longer it looked at me, the worse I felt, I still couldn't look away."

Arthur dropped down and clapped Leon on the uninjured shoulder. "Yes," he said, trading a look with Gwaine. "It was as if any energy or strength I had simply began leaving me in the first moment the creature met my eyes. I felt ill right away, and then weaker by the second." He scrubbed a hand over his face, and looked down at Leon. "How are you faring, Leon?"

"Well enough, Sire." The polite fiction passed unchallenged as Arthur chose instead to return to the task of getting out of the tunnels.

"Merlin, go check out those hollows. See how hard they are going to be to climb. And find out what is in the crates. I'll keep watch for the wolf."

Merlin walked over to investigate. Sure enough, the grooves were deep enough to form a kind of stone ladder, and were even carved out a bit on the inside to offer a secure handhold. Climbing out would be laborious, but very possible. Unless, of course, the wolf came back. And could Leon climb, as injured as he was?

 _If we had rope, we could even haul Leon out if we had to._ Merlin turned to see what was in the crates. _Maybe we'll get lucky and there's some rope._

The crates, upon examination, looked as if they had been there for many years. They were partially filled with the kind of equipment one might need for exploring caves: lanterns and candles, hammers and picks of various sizes, pitons, spikes, and blessedly, two coils of heavy rope. _Well,_ thought Merlin, _somebody carved out this ladder. Maybe this used to be a popular spot for caving, at least until the wolf showed up._ Merlin lifted out a coil, ran it across his palm, and gave it a sharp tug. It seemed sturdy enough, despite its apparent age. As he was trying to eyeball its length compared to the height of the ceiling, Arthur came to stand next to him. Then he wavered and stepped tiredly past Merlin to sit on one of the crates instead. He nodded at the rope in Merlin's hands.

"That should reach."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Plans had been made and Merlin had fitted a sling to Leon's injured arm, supporting it against his body. The climb began. Arthur went up first, carrying the rope. Despite his exhaustion, he made it look simple, and soon the prince had reached the top of the wall, and disappeared into the opening. Moments later, his head and shoulders reappeared silhouetted against the sky. There was a strange note in his voice when he spoke that worried Merlin. It was a little too even, as if the prince were having to struggle to not betray his emotions.

"There's nothing up here to tie off to. Gwaine, come up and help me brace the rope," Arthur instructed. "Merlin, help Leon over to the ladder and get him tied on."

Gwaine looked rebellious briefly, but nevertheless hauled himself to his feet and staggered over to the ladder. He looked at Merlin.

"You'll be okay down here?"

"We'll be fine. Are you sure you can do this?"

"If the other choice is staying down here with the wolf? I'll climb that ladder if it kills me." Gwaine reached up and grabbed the first hollow, looking green but determined. He began to climb. His progress was slow, but he made it safely to the top. Merlin released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Distant sounds of retching filtered down from beyond the opening as Arthur's head and shoulders appeared again. He glanced back behind him and then down at the men standing below.

"Give us just a minute. Leon, are you ready?"

"Yes, Sire," responded Leon weakly. He had helped Merlin fashion a climber's harness around his hips, and was now leaning heavily on Merlin's shoulder as he waited for the climb to begin.

A moment later, the line snapped taut, and Arthur called down, "Ready!" As the rope began to draw Leon upward, he clung to it with his good arm and set his feet in the grooves, trying to lift his own weight as much as he could. As soon as the knight's feet had cleared Merlin's head level, he set his own foot in the first groove and started to climb. As he did so, the click of toenails on rock behind him caught his attention. Heart in his throat, he twisted around to see that the wolf had returned. Merlin could see the yellow eyes in the grizzled grey face watching him from the entrance to the tunnel.

He firmed up his shields, but felt no draw on them. There was a frozen moment. Then a spike of pain slammed Merlin squarely between the eyes, accompanied by a voice in his head.

 _Free me now, sorcerer. Or when the door finally fails, I will take my revenge on Camelot and then come for you._

Merlin was astonished, both by the statement and by the creature's ability to make it. This was no simple beast; that much he had known, but what was going on here? Was this beast a prisoner? Then who had imprisoned him here? There was so much he didn't know. _Freeing it seems like a very bad idea, even if I could_ , he thought ruefully. Curiosity prompted him to ask one of the questions racing around in his head.

 _Are you a prisoner?_

 _What else could I be, in this desolate place? Free me!_

 _Whose prisoner are you?_

There was a soft snarl. _Ask your king, man of Camelot. But free me or you will feel my wrath along with him._

 _I can't free you. I can't blast through this much rock._

 _I do not believe you, sorcerer. I feel the magic pouring out of you. You could move mountains at need. You can free me._

Each word the wolf spoke in his mind sent another spike through his skull. He risked a glance upward. Leon had nearly reached the opening, and Merlin could see Arthur reaching down to help him.

"Come on, Merlin, move!" the prince called down. "We've got him. Get out of there."

"I'm coming," Merlin called up to his friend. To the wolf, he spoke silently. _I cannot free you now. But when I get back to the castle, I will find out how you were imprisoned. I will try to help you if I can._

The wolf snarled and stepped forward. _Free me!_

 _No. Not now._

The wolf lunged, but Merlin was prepared. He braced himself against the pain he now knew came with every magical contact he had with the wolf. Then he blasted the wolf as hard as he could. It smashed into the curve of the tunnel, and crumpled into a furred heap. Merlin flung himself up the ladder as quickly as he could, hoping to be out of reach before it regained its footing. Before long, he was too high to see into the tunnel, and the wolf had not emerged. Merlin sighed with relief and kept climbing.

By the time Merlin reached the top, his arms and legs had begun shaking and the bitten shoulder was screaming. He crawled out to find himself on the peak of an enormous smooth dome of rock. _Where am I?_ he wondered. He looked around him, trying to get his bearings, expecting to see the spires of the castle somewhere nearby. A shock of something like despair hit him. All around, in every direction, deep green forested mountains reached upward to a wide open sky, blue and clear in the late afternoon sunlight. Camelot was nowhere to be seen.

 **Author's note: So our heroes aren't where they thought they were! They've also got several problems to cope with, since they have little in the way of supplies, Arthur and Gwaine are as sick as two dogs, and Leon has been munched by a giant wolf. The next chapter will see them figuring out how to acquire food, water, and shelter so they can heal up and discover where they are.**

 **Thanks to Sarah, Mizzymel, Mershan123, Nienor, Taz, Walker's Annoying Voice and a guest for taking a chance on this story and then reviewing! You made my day, all of you!**


	3. Chapter 3 - River

**Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon are out of the tunnels, but Arthur and Gwaine have been sickened by the strange gaze of the wolf, and Leon is injured. They need a place to rest and heal.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 3 - River**

 _No Camelot?_ Merlin looked around again, hoping against hope that he'd somehow just missed it. _How is this even possible?_ The mountains rising all around him yielded no familiar silhouettes. There seemed to be no dwelling in sight, no farm fields or cottages, no roads anywhere that he could see. The glint of silver in the valley to the west seemed to be a river, but no boats could be seen upon it nor fishermen on its banks. Merlin refused to panic. Surely Arthur or Leon knew where they were. Or perhaps Gwaine, since he'd done some wandering before arriving in Camelot.

He surveyed the group hopefully. Leon? No. The knight was scrutinizing the area all around them with an air of uncertainty and near panic. Gwaine? Well, Gwaine didn't seem to be panicking, but based on the lively curiosity in the eyes in that wan face, this wasn't anyplace he'd been before. Arthur? Where was Arthur anyway?

Arthur had moved well away from the group, and was crouching, facing away. Apparently Gwaine wasn't the only one experiencing nausea from the touch of the wolf's gaze. Even as Merlin had the thought, Gwaine was floundering to his feet and hurrying several yards away to do the same. By the time he returned, Arthur had returned to the group as well.

"Gentlemen, we appear to have a task before us," the prince said, dropping down to sit next to Leon and tugging his tunic out of his belt to mop his face. "I do not know where we are. I gather none of you do either?" When his companions indicated that they did not, he went on. "We will need to find out. But our initial concern must be survival. Our first priority is water and food. We will walk down to that river," indicating it with a nod, "make camp, rest and drink, and see what we can do about food. It is midsummer, after all; we should be able to feed ourselves. Then we will follow the river. It is likely that it will lead us to a town where we can get our bearings." He wearily pushed himself to his feet and reached down to assist Leon.

"Can you walk, Sir Leon?"

"Yes, Sire." The knight managed to get to his feet with Arthur's help, and Arthur draped Leon's good arm across his shoulders and got a good grip on the older knight's belt.

"Merlin, Gwaine, are you ready?" At their nods, he decreed, "Then let us proceed."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The hike down to the river had been more difficult than Merlin anticipated. Both Gwaine and Arthur kept having to depart briefly, coming back looking white and sweaty but saying nothing. Merlin ended up supporting Leon, who despite his brave words was struggling to keep moving. Merlin hadn't yet been able to clean or even sufficiently bandage his wounds around the armor, and the gashes and punctures continued to bleed, slowly draining the knight of strength. By the time they arrived at the edge of the river, the last of the sunlight was glittering and golden on the water and the shadows were stretched long.

Merlin eased Leon down to a seated position on the grass above the pebbled riverbank as Gwaine flung himself down with a groan and even Arthur stretched out on the grass with a sigh. Relieved of Leon's weight, Merlin stretched his back and shook out his shoulders, wincing as his bitten shoulder objected most strenuously. Then he took a quick look upstream and down. A short distance upstream, a small rivulet poured over a rock outcropping into a tiny pool before wandering across the pebbles to the river. Merlin unslung the empty water skin and handed it to Gwaine.

"Gwaine, do you think you could refill the water skin over there? It's probably cleanest," he requested apologetically. "I know you don't feel well, but we should all drink at least a little if we can." Gwaine climbed to his feet, wordlessly accepted the water skin, and trudged off in the direction of the little waterfall, weaving a bit as he went.

Merlin turned back to Leon. "We should get your chain shirt off so I can clean and bandage the wounds." This was more easily said than done, but with Arthur's help, they were able to ease Leon out of his mail. Merlin thanked his lucky stars for the impulse that had led him to bring the medical kit. Rummaging through, Merlin quickly found plenty of bandages and Gaius' healing salve. He settled next to Leon and began examining and tending the knight's injuries.

By the time the wounds were cleaned thoroughly, Leon was bone white. The slashes in his chest were easily and quickly cleaned with water Gwaine brought back, but the arm was another story. In order to fully cleanse the deep punctures left by the wolf's teeth, Merlin had to dig bits of cloth and mangled chain rings out of the wounds. Leon laid his good arm over his face, but endured the painful procedure without making a single sound. When that was finished and the wounds rinsed, Merlin spread salve generously over all of the wounds, but especially those punctures which were already looking disturbingly swollen and red. _The wolf's teeth can't have been very clean_ , thought Merlin. _I'd better see if I can find a way to heat water for a hot compress somehow._

When Leon was resting as comfortably as possible in these primitive conditions, Merlin looked around to see how Arthur and Gwaine were doing. He'd been vaguely aware, as he tended Leon, of both men alternately lying on the grass then getting up to do something and returning to lie on the grass again. In the dusky evening light, he now could see that the 'something' had amounted to the arrangement of a simple camp. A small fire was laid in a spot scraped bare and surrounded by random rocks. Additional firewood was stacked nearby, enough to last the night. A pile of raspberries and a double handful of wild greens lay by Leon's leg. "You two share those," said Arthur, who was lying flat on his back on the other side of the fire pit. He exchanged a queasy glance with Gwaine, who was struggling wearily and unsuccessfully to get the fire lighted with no flint or steel. "Neither of us is up to eating right now." He suddenly swallowed, got up, and hurried into the forest.

Gwaine watched him go, glanced quickly at Leon who was either asleep or unconscious, and gestured plaintively from Merlin to the wood. Merlin reached out toward the firepit, winced as the shoulder wound stabbed him, changed arms, and cast the spell. The blaze crackled merrily to life. Gwaine smiled faintly and lay down with a sigh, gazing into the light of the fire. By the time Arthur got back, Gwaine was asleep. The prince looked from Leon, to Gwaine, to Merlin. He pulled off his cloak and settled it over Leon, then sank down gratefully by the fire. Soon, he too slept.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Through the night, Merlin fed the fire and watched over Leon. He'd found a way to use Leon's helmet as a bowl to heat water in. It probably ruined the helmet for normal use, but Merlin considered the sacrifice necessary. Leon was running a fever and sleeping restlessly, and it had Merlin worried. Thick pads of bandaging dipped in the hot water served as hot compresses that Merlin hoped would combat the infection he believed was developing. At one point, when Leon woke, Merlin coaxed the raspberries and some of the greens into him, knowing that food would be needed to fight the infection. Over and over, Merlin renewed the compresses, and near morning the knight's fever broke. By the time the rosy light of dawn rose over the mountains, Merlin could see that the wounds really did look better. The redness was subsiding and the swelling going down.

By this time, Merlin's head felt as if it were floating above him, and his thoughts were coming more and more sluggishly. _He's okay. I can take a break for a little while_ , he thought. _I'm hot_. He staggered to the river's edge and let his knees collapse under him in the shallow water. Scooping the cold water up and splashing his face felt wonderful, as did setting his cold wet hands on the back of his neck. _I'll just sit for a few minutes, then maybe see if I can clean my shoulder wound. Probably should have done that last night_ , he admitted fuzzily. _I'll get a cloth in a minute._

-o-o-o-o-o-

There was a gap, somehow, because the next things Merlin was aware of were strong arms supporting him, Gwaine's voice, and the fact that he was soaking wet from head to toe and blessedly cool.

"No magic, Merlin. You're okay, I've got you. Just don't forget – no more magic, unless you want Arthur to get one heck of a surprise." Gwaine's words were calm and firm. "Take it easy. Let _us_ take care of _you_ for a while." He heard, as if from far away, Gwaine shout for Arthur, and then the world tilted and more hands were on him. He was lifted into someone's arms and floated away.

-o-o-o-o-o-

There were hands pulling his tunic away from his shoulder, a ripping sound, and a hiss of dismay. "That doesn't look good. And," the back of a hand settled on his cheek briefly and was withdrawn, "yeah. He's feverish." Merlin's shoulder hurt. He tried to push away the hands that were probing it. _No magic, Merlin._ "Easy, Merlin. Just let me look."

-o-o-o-o-o-

There was damp coolness on his forehead, and Arthur's voice. "Merlin, can you hear me?"

Merlin nodded weakly.

"All right. Just listen. The wound in your shoulder is swollen and hot. You need to tell us what to do for it."

Merlin tried to speak, but at first no sound came out. He licked dry lips, swallowed, and tried again. "Infected." He had to pause and rest in between the phrases. "Clean it. Hot compresses on it. Umm. Healer's kit, big green jar." He tried to get up and go find it, but was gently and firmly prevented from rising. _No magic, Merlin._ Instead he flapped a hand in the general direction in which he had last seen the kit. "On the wound every few hours."

There was something else Gaius would recommend. What was it? _Oh._ "Fever." He felt his lips curve slightly into a weak smile. "Throw me in the river. It's cool."

He heard a surprised huff, almost a chuckle. "Merlin, we're not going to throw you in the river. But we'll think of something. Anything else?" At Merlin's slight shake of his head, the prince ordered, "Then go back to sleep."

-o-o-o-o-o-

There was pain, piercing pain in his shoulder and multiple strong hands holding him still. _No magic, Merlin._ Voices were talking to him.

"Stay still, Merlin. We're cleaning the wound."

"Easy, mate. It's okay, you're safe. I know it hurts, just hang on."

He tried to stay still, to be calm, as the world tipped away.

-o-o-o-o-o-

There was heat, relentless heat, and then a strange impression that he was floating in coolness. Then the world was gone again.

-o-o-o-o-o-

There was cool darkness and the leap and crackle of the fire. Worry shot through Merlin. _I fell asleep! I need to check on Leon._ "Leon!" He started to sit up, but a firm hand pressed him back down. Arthur's voice spoke quietly beside him.

"Leon's fine, Merlin. Better than you, in fact. Lie down. Go back to sleep." Something warm and soft settled over him, and Merlin closed his eyes and drifted back into slumber.

-o-o-o-o-o-

When Merlin awakened next, he was weak and thirsty but lucid. The shoulder, though sore still under a layer of awkwardly wrapped bandages, no longer felt hot and tight. The mouthwatering aroma of meat cooking reached his nostrils, and he opened his eyes and looked around. The angle of the sun suggested that it was late morning. Gwaine, looking much improved, was tending the fire over which something was roasting and producing that delicious scent. Leon was standing waist deep in the river, his chest and upper arm wrapped in fresh bandages that were threatening to come undone as he washed. Three sets of chainmail were piled in various places around the fire, and three padded undertunics of the kind worn under chainmail were spread in the sun by the river bank.

Merlin sat up. The movement dislodged the red cloak he'd been wrapped in and caught Gwaine's attention.

"Morning, mate," was his greeting. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Merlin reassured. Gwaine made a dubious noise, but chose not to challenge the assertion. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Depends what you want to include under the category of 'asleep'. Do you count unconscious? And how about delirious?" He saw Merlin's confusion and laughed. "The short answer is, I found you passed out on the riverbank early yesterday morning. And you've been sleeping reasonably peacefully since late last night."

"I passed out on the riverbank?"

"Nearly **in** the river, actually. Almost drowned. Then you magicked yourself right out of my grip and got another ducking."

 _No magic, Merlin._ "Oh!"

Gwaine gave him a doubtful look, and came to lay a hand on Merlin's forehead.

"No, I'm fine. Really. I just suddenly remembered you saying, 'No magic, Merlin.' "

"I needed the princess' help to get you out of the river." Gwaine sat down next to Merlin. "Didn't think you wanted to give him the surprise of his life just then. And actually, later you ended up back in the water again, because when we couldn't get your fever down we floated you in the river for a little while."

Merlin did have a vague memory of floating and coolness.

"When Leon woke up that morning, he told us you'd been up all night with him. You could have taken the time to see to that bite, mate, or asked one of us to. Arthur or I could have taken care of Leon long enough for you to do that!"

"I know, but you two were, well, a mess. You needed to sleep."

"Your injuries needed treating too, Merlin. And next time I'm not going to trust you to do it - I'm going to turn into a mother hen and annoy you until you do!"

"Gods forbid! I see your point, Gwaine, but…"

"No buts." Merlin, ashamed, could not honestly argue the point. Gwaine bumped his good shoulder companionably, and mercifully changed the subject. "Leon and Arthur both knew how to make snares. These," pointing to the small roasting carcasses, "are the rabbits that we found in them this morning. Arthur is out setting them again. Hungry?"

"Are you joking? I could eat old shoes. Or Gaius' porridge."

Gwaine laughed and hopped up to poke the meat. "Think it's done." He carved a haunch off with his belt knife and sent the meat flying toward Merlin, who caught it awkwardly but then had to toss it from hand to hand to avoid burning himself.

"Ouch, ouch, hot, hot, hot." He nibbled, tossed, nibbled, and sighed, continuing to shift the food between bites. "Oh boy was I hungry."

-o-o-o-o-o-

When Arthur returned, he was carrying another furry body tucked through his belt and an impressive pile of raspberries gathered in the upturned fabric of his tunic. He scrutinized Merlin briefly and subtle lines of tension in his face relaxed.

"You look better. Idiot." He crouched to pour the berries onto the grass and tugged the rabbit out of his belt. "How is the shoulder?"

"Better. Healing. It doesn't feel hot or tight anymore."

"I'm not sure I trust your judgement anymore. Let me see." He tossed the rabbit to Gwaine, who rolled his eyes but proceeded to carry it away from the fire to gut and skin.

Arthur waited while Merlin shrugged out of his tunic. The prince carefully untied the bandage and tried to peek under it. When it stuck a bit, Merlin took over and eased it off. They both looked, Merlin twisting and craning but only able to see some of the damage.

"A lot better than it was." When Merlin slanted a questioning look up at him, he clarified, "Not red, less swollen."

"See? Healing."

"Shut up. And put your shirt on, Merlin."

Arthur decided that they would rest for the remainder of the day and leave in the morning. The day passed peacefully. The sun was soon hot enough to coax Arthur and Gwaine into the water, causing Leon to flee the splashing to avoid soaking his bandages. Merlin rebandaged Leon's chest and arm, and was pleased to see that the slashes and punctures were healing well. That evening Leon and Merlin between them managed a version of rabbit stew cooked in Leon's abused helmet precariously balanced among the coals.

In the morning, they stuffed themselves with berries, and set off down the river valley. Merlin had to admit that the additional day of rest had done both Leon and himself a world of good. Maybe soon they'd find a town and discover where home was, too. Things were looking up.

 **Author's note: Thanks for sticking with me! I hope you enjoyed Merlin experiencing some worry, some TLC, and just a little well-deserved guilt! Review and let me know what you think?**

 **The next chapter will get our boys on the move again, making their way back to civilization.**


	4. Chapter 4 - Ruins

**Merlin and Leon are finally on the road to healing, and Gwaine and Arthur have recovered from the effects of the wolf's gaze. They have set out to find civilization, wherever that might be.**

 **For those who have not read The Royal Crest of Camelot, Arthur knows that the legendary 'Emrys' is actually a person living in Camelot. He is determined to find out Emrys' true identity. Merlin, as Emrys, promised that if he were discovered, he would not lie.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 4 – Ruins**

Arthur led the way, following the river. The day was brightly sunny and warm, and travel was surprisingly easy. There seemed to be a level area that followed the river, up from the bank a bit and out of the reach of the water, leading away from their campsite. There were fewer trees in the flattened area, and every so often Merlin could see the uplifted edges of large flat stones. _Is this the remains of a road_? wondered Merlin. The level strip wound along, often shaded by tall trees growing on the uphill side. After about two hours of brisk walking and periods of Gwaine's chatter, Arthur slowed up to look at something. It was a stone pillar, about the height of his waist and the thickness of his thigh. It stood along the river side of what Merlin was now certain a road.

Merlin walked around the pillar. There didn't seem to be any carvings, but on the road side, there was a gouge near the top. He explored it with his fingers. It was a roughly cylindrical hole almost three inches deep.

"Hitching post." It was Leon's voice inserted into the quiet. "That's where the ring was set in."

"So there used to be people around here." Merlin thought about it. "Not anymore, though. Wonder where they went?"

"We won't know until we find them," Arthur pointed out. "Let's continue on."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The travelers found three more similar stone posts along the road, around two hours walk apart. Each one was set deeply enough to still be standing more or less upright, and contained a setting for a hitching ring. By that time Merlin had begun to notice Leon's pace lagging a bit. The knight's face was pale and drawn. _Makes sense_ , he realized. _Leon lost a lot more blood than I did to start with, and his injuries have just begun to heal. And while we have been finding some food, we're not eating a lot. He can't keep this up._

He hastened his pace a bit to catch up with Arthur. "Arthur," he said softly enough that only the prince was likely to hear him. "Take a look at Leon. He isn't complaining, but he looks like he's on his last legs."

His friend turned unobtrusively, as if surveying the group, and then returned his attention to Merlin. "Of course he's not complaining. He's a _knight_ , Merlin." Merlin rolled his eyes, silently lamenting the attitude that required a knight to be an idiot. "I saw that, Merlin. And he's not the only idiot. I seem to remember someone else passing out after taking care everyone but himself."

 _Oh._ Merlin winced.

The prince returned to the original topic of conversation. "We should get as far as we can today, but you are right. I don't think he can go on much longer. Start watching for a good place to camp."

Over the next hour, the valley in which they'd been walking deepened. The road was the only flat place, and steep hills crowded the river on both sides. Just when Merlin was beginning to wonder if they'd made a mistake in continuing on, the land began flattening out a little bit, and coming around a curve of the river, they caught sight of what appeared to be the ruins of a large stone building with broken light gray walls reaching jaggedly upward. Tall trees grew among the stones, even inside the walls. The structure was somewhat inset in the hill, and the ruins of stone structures around it reached all the way down to, and in fact into, the river. Substantial blocks of pale stone tumbled out across the water to the far side, forming a line that could once have been a bridge.

Down along the edge of the river, where fallen stones lay in the shallows, movement caught Merlin's eye. A man was sitting on one of the blocks, dangling bare feet above the rushing water and busily mending a net. His hair was gray and short, and sticking up in all directions from his head. A bushy beard, nearly white, hid the lower half of his face. The hands and arms shifting the net were wiry and deft.

The man turned to look as they approached. When he did, his eyes widened and he shot to his feet with an inarticulate squeak of alarm. He stared for a moment. Then without a word, he bolted up the bank and into a tiny hut that Merlin was just now noticing. A partially fallen stone structure had been rebuilt with stacked stones to include a doorway and a window, and fitted with a wooden roof and door and a pair of shutters, currently closed. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind the man and there was utter silence from within, though Merlin could feel the itch of eyes upon him.

"What was that all about?" wondered Leon aloud.

Merlin turned to look at him standing next to Arthur and Gwaine and began to chuckle. The chuckle turned into helpless laughter at Arthur's and Leon's puzzled expressions. Gwaine's eyes wandered from one man to the other, and a raised eyebrow followed by a sardonic grin indicated his understanding of the source of Merlin's amusement. He spoke over Merlin's laughter.

"You haven't seen yourself lately, Sir Leon, but look at the rest of us. And I assure you, you look just as bad or maybe worse."

Every single one of them looked entirely disreputable.

All three sets of armor, having been out in the elements for three days without a polishing cloth in sight, were brown and splotchy with rust. Leon's armor had gaping asymmetrical holes in it where the rings had been destroyed by the wolf and removed. Under the armor, the padding of all three men was somewhat grayed with dirt only partially removed by a washing in the river. Leon's padding was torn, and discolored with enormous layered blood stains. _Though at least on red fabric_ , reflected Merlin, _bloodstains don't look quite so alarming._

Arthur's helmet was probably still hanging on a fence post in the training yard where Merlin had forgotten it, and Gwaine's had been abandoned when he tackled Merlin. Leon was wearing his. Unfortunately, the accumulated soot from using it as a kettle and a cookpot had proven impossible to wash off without soap.

Arthur was wearing his once-luxuriant red cloak, but it had been used twice as a blanket to wrap injured bodies and so was creased and stained with blood and grass.

Merlin, of course, had neither padding nor armor, but the shoulder of his tunic was ripped out and bloodstained.

Nobody had washed in anything but plain cold river water in three days. And everyone but Merlin was armed.

Arthur's gaze marched over each of the companions, and he smiled wryly. "Point taken. We don't look terribly trustworthy."

"Why don't I go up and tap on the door?" suggested Merlin. "I may be just as much of a mess, but I'm probably less scary than the rest of you."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The startled fisherman had adamantly refused to come out of his house, but after a minute or so, he opened one of the shutters and was willing to converse with Merlin as long as the others stood well away. In response to Merlin's queries, he allowed that, "There be a town, down the road a ways, c'd get there afore midnight, but the gates'd be closed. Where'd ye come from, anyway?" the fisherman asked. When Merlin described the rock dome, the man's wrinkled face registered shock. "Ye come from the Tor? Are ye from the magical lands?"

 _Magical lands?!_ "We came from Camelot, and now we're lost." The man's face showed no recognition of the name, but Merlin wasn't concerned. Living in Ealdor, he'd not known most of the names of the surrounding lands, after all. "I'd stay away from - you said the Tor? - if I were you. There's a huge wolf in the tunnels up there. Mean one. I'm Merlin, by the way. What's your name?"

"I be Tam." The fisherman still looked shocked, but also now hesitantly sympathetic as he looked at the bloodstained bandages showing through the torn shoulder seam of Merlin's tunic. He turned to look at the group standing well behind Merlin, then looked back at him. "I can't shelter ye, but if ye go up int' the ruins, there be a couple good spots t' camp, and a spring in the base o' the old keep. I can give ye a bit o' dried fish. Got plenty o' that, just smoked some."

Tam was as good as his word. He passed Merlin a substantial pile of dried fish through the window, and described the way to the spring he'd found. Then he closed the shutter, clearly planning to wait until they were thoroughly gone before emerging.

Merlin reported to Arthur, and led the way, based on Tam's directions, up to the ruined keep. The thick pale stone walls surrounded them as they entered, towering above them and muffling the sounds of the river and forest, leaving an almost palpable quiet. Despite the warmth of the day, the stone radiated coolness. The air felt so still that even Gwaine was temporarily silenced. _This place should be creepy_ , thought Merlin, _but it isn't_. There was a welcome here, a quiet sense of peace welling out from the very stones. Merlin let Leon and Arthur get ahead a little, and extended his magical senses briefly, feeling outward as he had in the tunnels. Sure enough, there was magic here, but only what Merlin had already sensed. There was a blessing on these walls, a magic that whispered of peace and comfort and safety. Merlin extended his senses further. Were they truly safe?

Using what he'd learned in the tunnels, Merlin let his senses spread out even farther, into the earth, forest, river, and sky all around. There were no hints of malice in or around the ruined keep, and only the presence of small animals going about their business. Farther out, there was Tam in his house, more small creatures in their dens and burrows, and the muted sleeping power of the earth itself. He drew back into himself, comforted. They could sleep safe here.

Ahead, Merlin could hear Arthur calling. When Merlin caught up, he discovered that the prince and Leon had found the spring. It was down a set of stone steps into darkness, and it was at that point, as Merlin looked down into the blackness that he thought of something. They hadn't brought out either of the magic torches from the Tor. The torch he'd carried had been thrown down the passageway so that the wolf could not sneak up on them, and he had no idea what had happened to the other one. _A magic torch would be right handy about now_ , he thought regretfully, as he descended into the darkness and paused for his eyes to adjust. _Next time, I am bringing the blasted torch even if I have to wrest it from the wolf and carry it in my teeth!_

Thirst slaked and water skin filled, they returned to the surface and set up camp. Fallen branches were plentiful, so firewood was easy to collect. They had found a smooth spot in a corner of the walls, and settled there to rest and eat in the late-afternoon sunlight. Gwaine had found a stand of blackberries on a sunny hillside just outside the keep, and Tam's smoked fish was a welcome change after two days of rabbit. Merlin noted with amused sympathy that Leon was nodding off over his last bite of fish. He glanced over at Arthur and saw that the prince was also observing Leon.

"Lie down and sleep," Arthur ordered the knight.

It was, perhaps, a combination of Leon's dutiful nature and the fact that he was injured, but the knight made no objection at all despite the earliness of the hour. He wearily scooted over to lie down with his back against the stone wall, and in minutes he was asleep and snoring softly.

Arthur rose to his feet and swung his cloak off his shoulders. "We should keep him warm, I imagine. Here." He tossed the cloak to Merlin, who bobbled it briefly then wadded it up since the day was still warm. Arthur rolled his eyes. "I intend to explore an hour or so up the road and see if I can find any homesteads along the way. Merlin, stay and watch over Leon. Gwaine?"

Merlin didn't want Arthur wandering the area alone, no matter how peaceful it seemed. He caught Gwaine's eye and made his request with the subtlest tilt of his head, hoping the young man would catch his intent. Perhaps he had, for Gwaine grabbed the last piece of dried fish and hopped to his feet. "If we must."

The prince nodded and led the way quietly out into forest.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Arthur returned alone almost four hours later, when the sun was recently set and the forest was going gray in the dusk. Merlin had set the firewood alight and fed the blaze well, thinking that the warmth through the night would do them all good. He looked up, wondering where in the world Gwaine had gotten to.

"No sign of people at all," the prince stated. "We'll need to continue on tomorrow, and head for the town Tam mentioned. Gwaine isn't back yet?"

Merlin, puzzled, shook his head. Arthur continued.

"He said something about finding a vantage point high enough to see something more interesting than trees. He intended to be back by full dark. There's a moon tonight – he should be fine."

Arthur found a spot to sit near the corner of the wall. He leaned back and stared into the fire, with an unusually thoughtful expression. Merlin wondered if the magic of the walls was affecting him.

"A copper for your thoughts?"

"I'm a prince, Merlin," was the arch response. "Surely my thoughts ought to be worth more than a copper."

"Certainly, Sire, but I have nothing but coppers, so you'll just have to make do."

Arthur's huff could have been a smothered laugh. There was a pause, gently smoothed by the magic of the stones. _You are safe here._

"Emrys."

Merlin tensed, and tried to keep the prince from seeing it. This was not at all what Merlin had guessed his friend might be thinking about. Though perhaps he should have known. At times, Arthur could be like one of those little ratting dogs that never, ever let go when they'd gotten their teeth into something. The conversation Arthur was referring to had taken place weeks ago, and Merlin had been shape-changed into what he'd begun to think of as his Emrys form at the time. Snippets of the conversation ran through Merlin's head.

" _You are Emrys..."_

 _"In a way. This isn't how I normally appear..."_

 _"You're someone I know. I will find out who you are..."_

 _"If you discover who I am and choose to ask me directly, I will not lie. But I beg you to choose carefully, and be very sure you are prepared for the answer..."_

Merlin dragged his attention back to what Arthur was saying.

"I have been thinking about Emrys. I cannot imagine who he really is, nor can I think of a way to find out. I can't very well go around asking everyone if they are Emrys. If nothing else, my inquiries could get back to my father. And how could I explain? Can you imagine what my father would do if he somehow found out that there was a confirmed sorcerer living in Camelot? He might not catch Emrys, but he would be desperate to catch the sorcerer. And innocents might end up dying for nothing worse than being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or saying the wrong word to the wrong person. So I can't even ask unless I'm sure."

Merlin, following the prince's logic, could well imagine the king placing peasant after peasant on the pyre. _Or servant after servant_ , _for that matter._

"Emrys says he is my protector. To my mind, that suggests that he is a knight, except that all of the knights are from old, old, families known to Camelot for generations. I can't imagine a line of sorcerers being among Camelot's lords."

He sighed and actually threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't even know whether magic runs in families. Though I suppose the family we met a few weeks ago suggests that it does."

"But if he is a knight, then which one? Leon is with me most often, but I think he'd not have chosen to be half killed by a wolf, if he had magic to protect him. Maybe another one of the knights, I suppose."

"The only other option I can think of is a courtier. A courtier would know when I come and go, and to some extent my purpose or destination. Emrys may be staying in Camelot and watching from there. Doing magic from a distance must be possible, because when I faced the sorceress who tried to poison me and had to escape those blasted huge spiders, magic came to help me. I was alone on that trip, but clearly someone knew I needed help. Maybe Emrys is a member of the court."

Merlin's insides were almost physically twisting. In one sense he did _not_ want the prince to ask the fateful question. 'Merlin, are you Emrys?' would be a lightning bolt through both of their lives. Arthur would be caught between Merlin and his father, and every single possible consequence of that dilemma was frightening to contemplate. To Merlin's mind, there were no good outcomes to be had, if Arthur asked now.

At the same time, though, Arthur's blindness had him ready to scream. _Knights, courtiers. Why is that all you see, clotpole? Don't you even see all the other people around you every day? The horse boys, the maids, the cooks,_ me _?_ _The servants know more about where you go and when and why than the courtiers do, and we're always there!_

The words crowded Merlin's throat, but he thrust them down. To say any such thing might trigger the very realization that Merlin was trying to avoid.

Arthur had continued his musings silently. Suddenly he froze in place. "Wait. Merlin, what if it's Gwaine?"

Merlin nearly choked.

"Gwaine is a maverick. He's a warrior, if not a knight. He barely avoided being banished, has no family in Camelot, but he's stayed on. Why? I had chalked it up to being your friend, but he fights for me. And he's protective, in an understated way. Merlin, could he be Emrys?"

 _Oh no._ _What in the world do I say to that?_

 **This chapter, even though it has no action, was challenging to write. So what do you think? Review and let me know?**

 **P.S. The next chapter will be coming out fairly quickly, I hope - it's mostly done. So you won't be left hanging for long!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Town

**Arthur has come to an unfortunate and erroneous conclusion in his efforts to discover the true identity of Emrys, and our lads are still out in the wilderness. One problem at a time…**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 5 – Town**

" _Merlin, what if it's Gwaine?"_

For one long moment, Merlin thought he might simply explode then and there, though whether it be with laughter, curses, or even tears, he wasn't entirely sure. A breath later he chose laughter, imagining the trouble Gwaine would get himself into as a matter of course if the young man had magic.

"Gwaine? A sorcerer?" Merlin was thinking fast. _Why can't it be Gwaine? Other than the fact that I know he isn't._ "As often as he gets drunk, you'd think he'd have slipped up at least once and given himself away. Somebody, probably you, would have ended up wearing donkey ears or something. And bartenders would be constantly forgetting to add things to his tab. But not only don't they forget, they watch him like a hawk, because _he_ forgets what he's put on his tab and runs out of coin."

Arthur looked thoughtful. "Protective coloration?"

"That's an awfully big secret to keep successfully when you're three sheets to the wind and as happy-go-lucky as Gwaine is. Besides, wasn't he with us when you and Emrys were fighting Morgause? I thought he was right behind you."

"Maybe he just made me _think_ he was. I'm going to keep an eye on him, just in case."

"Yes, Sire." He made sure his tone was just shy of mocking, and Arthur glared at him.

"Idiot."

It was not long before the subject of their conversation reappeared.

"Nothing," Gwaine said in tones of disgust. "Just more trees. And a few spaces without trees a ways away. Guess we'll find out tomorrow."

Arthur nodded wordlessly and pinned the young man with a narrowed thoughtful gaze. When Gwaine finally settled down to sleep, Arthur was still wide awake and staring into the fire. He was still sitting there when Merlin's eyes closed for the night.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the morning they set off again, Gwaine limping slightly after a foray to the top of the keep wall in the early morning hours had resulted in a tumble. The road clearly had no more traffic than perhaps Tam going to town every so often, but at least it was flat. Merlin had been following at the tail end of the group for some six hours or so when around another curve of the road as it followed the river, they found their first sign of civilization. A small cluster of farmhouses lined the road, surrounded by fields full of well-tended crops. Merlin could see men and women out working in the fields. They all stopped and stared as the companions walked by, but tentatively returned the gesture when Merlin waved.

Slowly the farmhouses began to occur closer together and the road began to show signs of significant traffic. The wheels of many farm wagons and the beasts that pulled them had left their marks in the dirt. Merlin began to see more people too, out and about tending to their daily chores. It made him a little uncomfortable to see expressions of distrust on the faces of those they passed close to. One mother, who was hanging out clothes outside her home, sent her children hastily inside. Near another farmhouse, a toddler hid in her mother's skirts and did not come out until they were well past. The men eyed them warily and returned Arthur's greetings gruffly and with an air of surprise. _Surprised to be greeted?_ Merlin wondered. _Or surprised that he doesn't speak like the brigand he appears to be?_

Soon they could see a large town on the horizon. It did not seem to have a keep, but did have stout palisade walls that ran around and down to the river's edge. On the river side of the town, a white stone bridge arced from the walls to anchor on the other side of the river, where the road seemed to continue. As they neared the walls, they saw that the road that they were following led to a large gate, open but guarded by four men in midnight blue tabards with a stylized silver swan embroidered on the breast. Seeing the group approaching the gate, the men casually barred the way, and one man stepped forward, gesturing for them to halt.

"State your business in Riverton, gentlemen," he said. There was no mockery in his tone, but also no yielding. His gaze ran over them all, but no flicker of expression indicated his opinion of what he observed. _Never play dice with that one_ , thought Merlin with an inward chuckle. _He makes Arthur look open and expressive._

"We are looking for lodging for the night," said Arthur, his cultured speech a contrast to his ragged appearance. "As you can see by our condition, we have travelled far, and have had difficulties along the way. I am Prince Arthur of Camelot."

The guard did not react to the name. He considered for a moment.

"Have you coin to pay for lodging?"

Arthur lifted a small pouch on his belt and let it shift slightly between his fingers. Coins clinked and slithered.

The guard nodded. "There will be no trouble, gentlemen. Your weapons are permitted, but any breach of the peace, no matter how small, will result in your removal. Is this clear?"

Merlin could see Arthur bristle slightly at being addressed so, but the prince kept his temper. "We intend no harm to any of your citizens, and will abide by your laws during our stay. May we pass?"

The guard stepped aside, and gestured toward the gate, and the other men moved out of the way. Arthur and his companions entered Riverton.

-o-o-o-o-o-

To Merlin, Riverton was a wonder. It seemed bigger than Camelot, and was absolutely bustling with people. Inside the wall, the buildings were a mix of one- and two- story structures, most made of some kind of tan brick with brightly colored shutters thrown open to catch the summer breezes. The streets were cobblestone and lined with shops whose wildly colorful awnings and banners produced an almost festival-like air. Scents of food cooking wafted through the air, making Merlin's stomach clench with hunger.

"Merlin, go get us some meat pies." There was a street vendor approaching with his tray, but the prince hadn't said how Merlin was to pay for such a thing. Leon paused to dig in one of his belt pouches, pulling out a copper piece which he handed to Merlin. "And, Merlin," the prince continued, "ask him directions to the best inn in town. And find out if he knows where Camelot is."

When Merlin returned with eight meat pies, leaving behind a very happy but inexplicably puzzled street vendor, he found that Arthur, Leon, and Gwaine had put their heads together and were taking stock of their financial resources. Gwaine had had nothing in his belt pouch but a couple of coppers, and oddly enough, a flower. Leon dumped his pouch into his palm and sorted through, picking out two gold coins and three silvers, amid five glass marbles, a red hair ribbon, and two ordinary gray pebbles. The knight chuckled in response to Gwaine's raised eyebrow.

"Nieces," he said simply. He nodded toward Gwaine's pouch. "The flower?"

"A beautiful young lady," Gwaine replied with a wink. Merlin nearly laughed aloud. _A very, very young lady, in fact. A whole nine years of age._ Gwaine had been given the flower by a tiny little girl who had enchanted it to remain fresh, as far as Merlin could tell, forever.

During this exchange, the prince had pulled open his pouch and taken a quick look. He said, "It will do. I have a reasonable amount of gold. Merlin, directions? Camelot?"

Merlin related that the vendor had had no idea where Camelot was, though he'd given Merlin a very odd look at the question. When Merlin had recited the directions he'd been given to the inn, Arthur led the way. As they walked, Merlin marveled at all the shops. There were weavers and dyers, leatherworkers, jewelers, grocers, even a silversmith's shop that seemed to specialize in tiny metal decorations. Outside the door of that shop, Merlin paused. There was a display of delicate brooches and pins, and little figurines that were detailed and amazingly varied. Merlin realized he'd fallen behind, and hastened to catch up, feeling his neck constantly swiveling to take it all in. He had just caught up when Gwaine nudged him.

"Look," the young man said, "over there. See that shop?"

Merlin turned his gaze to where Gwaine was pointing. It was a small shop. Its banners were dark blue where most of the other banners were brightly colored. Strangely, the banner had a white knobby stick embroidered on it. Most of the other shops had no lettered signs, but this one did. A wooden plaque above the door read, "The Knotted Wand," and below that, in tiny lettering, "Broderick Sheffeld, Magus and Proprietor."

Gwaine spoke over his observations. "Merlin, the torches."

Merlin hadn't noticed the torches. Indeed, there were two lit torches, set one to either side of the doorway. The presence of the torches capped off the conclusion forming in Merlin's mind, for ordinarily nobody would waste perfectly good torches in the daytime like this.

"It's an actual shop of… of magic?" Merlin almost couldn't wrap his mind around the very idea.

"We've got to go in and look! Can you imagine what's in there?"

Merlin looked up the street. Arthur and Leon were already a block ahead and disappearing in the crowd.

"I know. But right now we should catch up. It'll still be there later. I wonder if Arthur saw it."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It turned out that a single one of the gold pieces in Arthur's belt pouch was enough to secure a spacious suite of rooms in the big inn in the central square of town, private use of the bathhouse for the prince's party, and an early dinner. Merlin had requested additional soap and used it to wash his clothing and Arthur's while the prince bathed. He hung it all by the fire to dry, and climbed into his own tub that had just been topped off with hot water by the attendant. _A warm bath! And I didn't even have to haul the buckets!_ When he was clean, he dressed in his now clean but slightly damp clothing and went in search of the maid placed in Arthur's service. He attempted to wheedle thread and a needle to repair his tunic, but she was having none of it. She tucked dark hair behind her ear and held out a slender hand.

"Give it here," she said. "I can do it." She seemed to expect that he would hand over his tunic then and there, so shrugging mentally, he wriggled out of it and held it out. She gave him a once over, more appreciatively than he'd expected, then gasped. "What did _that_?"

Merlin followed her gaze to his shoulder and realized that he'd carefully soaked the bandages loose in the bath, and hadn't yet replaced them. "I got bitten by a wolf," he replied with a grin. "A really big wolf. That reminds me, do you think you could get me a bunch of bandages? It got my friend a whole lot worse than me, and I want to rebandage him."

"Worse?" It seemed as though she was speaking more to herself than him, so Merlin did not reply. "I can get plenty bandages. And if you give me his clothes, I might be able to fix them."

"Appreciate it," he responded, thinking that it was lucky Leon wasn't there, because even though she was tiny, she apparently had a giant's force of will. She'd have demanded Leon's shirt too, and he wasn't sure Leon would be willing to spend the whole evening shirtless – because it was going to take that long to fix the bloodstained mess that remained of the upper right section of the knight's shirt.

It turned out that Arthur had taken charge of that matter. The seamstress from next door was in the suite when Merlin returned, taking measurements for clothing for Leon, Arthur and Gwaine. When Merlin entered, shirtless, she turned to Arthur with a questioning expression. Arthur turned to look at Merlin, and his eyebrows shot up. "What happened to your tunic, Merlin? Never mind." He responded to the seamstress' unspoken question. "Yes, take measurements for him too. Two tunics and a pair of breeches. You will be paid double if it is all here in the morning."

Merlin swallowed a chuckle when the seamstress finally left, assuring the prince that of course the clothing would be ready, and well made too, by morning. The glint in her eye suggested that the thought of double whatever he'd offered her must have made up for the fact that she and at least one other person wouldn't be sleeping that night to get it all done.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin's tunic was returned an amazingly short time later by the maid, who smiled as she handed it over. "It's mended," she said, "and I imagined you'd want it back. My name is Gianna, by the way. What's yours?"

Merlin turned the tunic over in his hands, noting the neat stitching. "You do good work, Gianna. Thank you. I'm Merlin." He shrugged into it, relieved.

"And I'm Gwaine," his friend added, nudging in to the conversation. "How do you know my friend here?"

"Oh, I stole his shirt," she responded with a wink at Merlin. She glanced past Merlin to the prince's closed chamber door. "I came by to check, though, does your master need anything before dinner? I have to serve in the dining room and wanted to make sure he has what he needs before I go down."

"I'll check." Merlin went to knock on the door of the prince's bedchamber. By the time he came back, Gianna was responding to something Gwaine had asked.

"…heard of it, of course. Camelot's a legend. I mean, the land where all magic comes from? And the stories say the way in is through the Tor. But of course people have explored and explored down there. The tunnels don't lead anywhere. But you're really from Camelot?"

Merlin and Gwaine exchanged stunned glances. _This explains the meat pie seller_ , thought Merlin, _who looked at me like I had two heads when I asked about Camelot. But… the land where all magic comes from?_

Gwaine clearly wasn't any less flummoxed. "Legend?" he muttered.

Merlin realized she'd asked a question, and pummeled his brain until he remembered what it had been.

"Yes, we're from Camelot. Remember the wolf I mentioned?" Merlin received a sympathetic smile when he re-entered the conversation, and she nodded. "Well, it was down in the tunnels under the Tor. I'm amazed that people have explored down there and not been eaten. Blasted thing is huge."

"Oh, not for a long time. I guess a few people died, or at least never came back, back in my granddad's time. Nobody goes there now. But how did you get into the Tor in the first place?"

"That's the part we're not so sure of. We were in Camelot, and then a hole opened up in the wall, we got sucked through, and there we were in the Tor with the wolf."

She mulled that over for a moment, then shrugged. "Beyond me. But it sounds like magic. You should talk to my uncle Broderick."

"Broderick?" Merlin exchanged glances with Gwaine.

"He's our mage. He's got a shop in town. You probably passed it on your way in. He'd be the best one to talk to. If he doesn't know where Camelot is or can't explain how to get back, he'll at least know who might. Talk to Broderick."

She glanced out the window and winced. "I have to get back downstairs. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No, the prince says we're fine for now. Just a couple of extra pallets for tonight when you have a chance."

"I can do that after dinner. It was nice you meet you," she said to Gwaine. Then she smiled up at Merlin. "I'll see you later, Merlin."

As the young lady walked off, Gwaine nudged Merlin's shoulder. "Made a conquest, did you?"

Merlin shoved him away, laughing. "Stop that. She's just being friendly."

"Especially to you! She practically ignored me." Gwaine punched him lightly and pretended to be offended.

"Oh, be quiet. Let's go explore the town. Arthur says he doesn't need me for a couple of hours and Leon's taking his armor to the smithy to see if they can fix it."

"Race you!"

They managed not to crash into anyone in the horseplay that occurred as they made their way out of the inn and into the town.

 **Author's note: Thanks very much for reading, and thanks especially for the reviews. They totally make my day!**

 **If you haven't read "The Royal Seal of Camelot", Gwaine's beautiful young lady is a little girl named Katya who Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine met in the forests near Camelot.**


	6. Chapter 6 - Magus

**Merlin has discovered that according to the locals, Camelot is a legend. He has also learned that there is a mage name Broderick who hangs out his shingle in town and may be able to help them.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 6 – Magus**

Merlin and Gwaine had made it nearly as far as Broderick's shop, when something occurred to Merlin. He stopped suddenly. Gwaine, who apparently was paying attention to something else, walked directly into him. Merlin staggered.

"Whoops!" The young man flailed his arms to catch his balance and not squash Merlin. "Sorry, Merlin."

"We should have told Arthur what we just learned from Gianna. I mean, he'd want to know sooner than later, don't you think?"

Gwaine winced. Apparently he'd come to the same conclusion Merlin had. Arthur would have quite a few words to say when he discovered that Merlin's reaction to Gianna's stunning revelation was to go wander the city. Without informing his lord and master of said revelation.

The young man thought for a moment and then his usual optimistic nature reasserted itself. "Well, you can always tell him when we get back. There's a whole shop of magic, Merlin, one block away. Don't you want to see?"

"I do. But…"

"So let's go see. Besides, hadn't you better visit before you try to convince Arthur to go there?"

"I guess…" _Convince Arthur to walk into a shop full of magic? Whose proprietor was an admitted magic user?_ Merlin's mind boggled at the thought.

"Then come _on_ , Merlin, let's go!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

The door of the shop was standing open to the evening air, and the two torches were more obvious now that the sun wasn't blazing down. Magus Broderick's shop sign swung gently on its placard in the breeze. When Merlin and Gwaine entered, they discovered that the shop was mostly just a sturdy wooden counter, with a wall a few feet behind it that was lined with laden shelves and punctuated by a curtained door. In brackets on the side walls, two torches gave light to the interior, supplementing the last of the daylight coming from the outer doorway. On the counter lay three small baskets. With a grin, Gwaine stepped forward to investigate one of the baskets as Merlin carefully peeked into another. The sight that met his eyes was puzzling. The basket was full of tiny wooden charms: a stylized flame, a mouse, an insect, and a frowning face tumbled repeatedly together.

"Little blank slips of wood," reported Gwaine, having looked into the other two baskets. "And forked sticks?"

Merlin shrugged, having no idea what those would be for. He began to reach for one of the wooden charms, then hesitated. After glancing out the door to assure himself that nobody was nearby, he turned back to the tiny figures. He spoke the spell to draw magic to him, trying to keep the draw light so as to not pull the torches out of their brackets. The torches rattled in their brackets, but stayed in place. The items in the baskets didn't budge. However, there was a muffled exclamation from behind the curtain and several boxes, bags, and bins were tugged off the shelf behind the counter, disgorging contents that made a beeline for Merlin. He had quick glimpses of fishing lures, bowstrings, belt knives, silver charms, and small glass vials filled with clear liquid as he frantically used his magic to stop them in midair and then stuff them back into their assigned containers and into the slots on the shelves.

The proprietor must have been eating his dinner, for moments later, when the curtain flapped and he appeared, he was still chewing and carrying a bowl and wooden spoon in one hand. He was older than Merlin or Gwaine, perhaps in his late thirties, and already beginning to bald. He greeted them with a nod and a smile, pointing to his mouth, then swallowed his mouthful and spoke.

"Welcome, gentlemen! I'm Magus Broderick. What can I do for you this beautiful evening? Those are charms, by the way," nodding toward the basket by Merlin, "ready to be enchanted to provide protection from fire, pests, or illness, as the case may be."

Merlin and Gwaine looked at each other, and Gwaine spoke first. "Just came in to see what you've got here. We're new in town, you see."

"Well, mostly I work on commission, but I've got the basics prepared. Unbreakable bowstrings and snares, enchanted fishing lures, and strengthening cordial for the sick. I also keep the materials on hand," he swept a hand to indicate the baskets on the counter, "for those charms, and blessings, and of course dowsers. Beyond that, you'd need to tell me what you need."

He paused and spooned up a mouthful of soup.

"Gianna sent us to you, actually," Merlin said. Broderick smiled, but Merlin noticed a worry line appearing between his eyebrows.

"Sweet kid, that one. My sister's eldest. But why'd she send you to me?" He spooned up another generous scoop of his dinner.

"She said you'd be able to help us get back to Camelot."

The spoon stopped dead halfway between the bowl and the mage's lips.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time the situation had been explained to Broderick, and introductions made, he had invited them back into his quarters in the back of his shop. He'd had to find his teapot after offering them tea, and to do so had picked up a dowsing rod. He'd followed its prompts until he located a squat brown teapot behind one of the many piles of books inhabiting most of the flat surfaces in the room.

"I haven't heard of anyone having contact with Camelot in, oh, at least a couple hundred years," he said. "We assumed it had fallen, and when nasty things started to befall those who explored under the Tor, our fears were confirmed. I wonder how the wolf got there. But you said the portal started to activate then stopped?"

"The symbols started to glow, the glow got partway around, and then just sort of flickered and died."

"Broken. And that's more than unfortunate, because we have lost the means to create new portals, or even fix broken ones. Too many mages keeping too many secrets." Broderick broke off, and stared into space for a few moments. Then he shook himself and returned to the conversation. "And the portal under the Tor is the only one I am aware of that goes to Camelot, and one of the few that go to that continent." Then he abruptly changed topics.

"So which of you is the mage? Thank you for putting everything back, by the way. I felt it all go, and it would have taken me quite some time to pick it all up. I'm not good at moving things with magic. Can barely pick up a twig."

It was safe, surely, to tell him. Magic was ordinary here. But Merlin's guts could only imagine the pyre and the flames. He couldn't do it. Simply couldn't say the words.

Gwaine spoke up, though Merlin barely heard. "Broderick, our land is, well, different. The king has outlawed magic. Any man found to be a sorcerer is burned at the stake. So our mages work in secret. It isn't safe otherwise."

Broderick looked disturbed. "So the prince who travels with you – he feels that magic is-"

That pulled Merlin out of his troubled thoughts, and he spoke up. "I don't think he knows what he believes. His father believes all magic is evil. Arthur is a better man. He's learning. But he's still wary of magic. Actually, not so much magical things, but magical people. Especially if they have the potential to become enemies. And of course, because magic is outlawed and so any sensible sorcerer stays away," he heard Gwaine snort in amusement, "the only sorcerers he's met have been out to kill him, or otherwise wreak havoc."

"And you want to bring him to my shop."

"If you will let us. And if he will come. He won't harm you, I would stake my life on it. I would like to show him the good things that magic can be used for."

"To have any hope of getting home, you need access to the royal mage, and royal permission to use the portals as well. If I am to help you with that, I need to know who he is, and know that I can trust him." Broderick still looked concerned. He thought for a moment.

"Bring him here tomorrow. But be sure he understands that I may ask to cast a spell on him, one that allows me to see the truth of his words." Merlin winced inwardly and exchanged a worried glance with Gwaine. That was potentially going to be easier to say than to do. As they took their leave and walked out into the street, Gwaine clapped him lightly on the back.

"Sure don't envy you that conversation, mate." They walked back to the inn far more sedately than they'd made the initial trip, both deep in thought.

It was dark by the time they returned to the inn. They found Arthur in the common room conversing with the innkeeper. Seeing them, he grabbed Merlin by the back of his tunic. "Upstairs. I have news. And apparently so did you."

As soon as they gained the privacy of their suite, Leon looked up alertly from his seat at the table in the sitting room. Arthur continued. "Most here think Camelot is a legend, the maid tells me. Which you knew _before_ you went out for an evening on the town." He slapped Merlin lightly on the back of the head.

"Hey! How come I get hit and Gwaine doesn't?"

" _He's_ not my servant."

"Yeah, see, I know better," Gwaine opined. "Merlin evidently doesn't."

Arthur rolled his eyes as Merlin chuckled. The prince took a seat at the table with Leon, and gestured for the other two to be seated. "I also learned that the royal house has the best maps, and may know where Camelot is if anyone does."

Merlin exchanged a glance with Gwaine, and then looked at his prince. "Arthur, we've also found a source of information. Gianna sent us to the town mage."

Arthur stilled. There was a pause.

"Town mage."

"He has a shop close by," Gwaine interjected. "Seems to sell useful stuff. And knew that Camelot was real, which is a step in the right direction. Pretty absent-minded, though. He offered us tea and then had to use magic to find his own teapot."

"All right. Tell me what you've learned from him. And don't leave anything out. We'll have to deal with him carefully, and I need to know everything."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The seamstress had arrived in the morning as promised, and soon everyone was clad in new clothing. She had left with two gold pieces, a pleased expression, and orders for one more outfit for the prince.

Arthur had decided to meet with Broderick, though Merlin could tell he was very uncomfortable with allowing an unknown mage to cast a spell on him. However, as the mage appeared to be their most likely avenue for accessing both the portals and the maps, Merlin suspected that his friend saw it as the only possibility for getting home.

Once everyone had been fed, Arthur took a very quiet deep breath. "All right, Merlin. It's time to meet this Magus Broderick."

They travelled through the streets once more and arrived at Broderick's shop. The door was open, as seemed to be his habit in pleasant weather, but this time the shop was full of people, and they all seemed to be talking at once.

"…she saw them too, late last night…"

"…think they're ghosts…"

"…can't be ghosts…"

"…have to help…"

Broderick had to shout to be heard above the hubbub. "Everyone, calm down. Let me do my job. I'll investigate, inform the palace, if you'll just get out of my hair! Out! Out!"

He succeeded in herding the crowd out his door and saw Merlin and Gwaine. His eyebrows rose in recognition and his gaze sharpened as it ran over Arthur, then Leon, and back to Arthur. "Come in," he said, "quickly, before the next set shows up." He ran both hands through his hair, leaving some of the thinning hair at the top of his head standing on end, ushered them inside, and closed the door. "A closed door won't keep them out for long, but it'll give us a few minutes before somebody decides to pop in."

Merlin dragged his jaw off the floor and asked, "Broderick, what happened?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, at this point. Night before last, old Silas, who sometimes gets drunk and sleeps in the square because his wife won't let him in the door when he's sodden, came staggering back into the tavern saying he'd seen soldiers marching through the square. Nobody paid any mind, figured he'd just had too much."

"But last night the midwife was walking home with her assistant after Jesria's baby came early, and saw the same thing. And Greeley and his buddies ran into whatever they are on the way home from the tavern and apparently tried to mix it up with them. All of them described the figures as soldiers, ragged and strange, and dressed in odd clothing and wearing armor. So seven people saw them, and of course everybody knows, since it's all of nine in the morning and this town has a gossip mill like no other."

Arthur asked the question Merlin was thinking of. "Does this land have enemies?"

"Not really." Broderick sounded puzzled. "And certainly not near here. We're in the middle of Cygnonen, after all. _So that's the name of this country,_ thought Merlin. _Never heard of it_. A quick glance at Arthur confirmed that the prince hadn't either. "Besides, the descriptions of the clothing – it sounds like what people used to wear. Like what you'd see in really old portraits."

"Ghosts?" asked Merlin.

"Not unless ghosts can do physical damage. I'm told that Silas' back is one gigantic bruise, and Greeley's got a sword wound across his whole rib cage. If it'd been lower, he'd have been gutted."

Broderick sighed, rubbed his face with his hand, and shook himself like dog. "It isn't your problem, at any rate. And you're here for a purpose." He looked without hesitation at Arthur. "You are Prince Arthur?"

"I am. And you are Magus Broderick."

"Merlin and Gwaine have explained your situation." Broderick pulled out a hand-drawn map. "You are here on the continent of Westmeet. I'm pretty sure Camelot is probably on the continent of Cambria, over across this ocean here. Only a few ships have gone so far and returned to tell the tale, despite-" He was interrupted by a man who opened the door and peered around it.

"Broderick, sorry but-"

"I know, I know. The soldier-things."

"What soldier things?"

"Never mind. Ask anybody but me."

"Mulddoon's gone missing again."

"I'm not going to use magic to find your dog. He'll come home for his supper, and this time maybe you'll start teaching the poor thing to come when you call. Goodbye, Garet."

The door closed. Broderick shook his head, then resumed his explanation. "All of our contacts with the nations in Cambria have always been through the portals. The sea voyage is just too far. But the portal directly into Camelot is broken, based on Merlin's description, so you need one of the others. I don't know where they are, but the Royal Mage has access to the portal maps. To get to speak to her, you need royal permission to access the bridge, and a sponsor. I am willing to be that sponsor, if you agree to one thing. You," he met Arthur's eyes, "allow me to cast one spell on you. It shows me whether you are speaking the truth. It won't compel you to do so – such spells are illegal, and I'd lose my position – but it will warn me of any attempt at deceit. We can agree ahead of time on the questions I will ask, if it makes you more comfortable, and you will retain the ability to choose not to answer a question, in any case."

In the pause following his words, a quiet knock at the door was followed by another head peering around it. A woman spoke, "Broderick, can I disturb you? Beth is sick again, and I'd like to get another tonic."

Broderick slipped back behind the counter. He lifted one of the clear vials from its box, and handed it to her. He looked closely at her as she handed over a silver piece. "Kat, you don't look so well yourself."

As Kat mumbled something about, "Up all night with a toddler," he turned and dug in the basket of wooden charms. He pulled out two of the tiny faces, and holding his hand over them, spoke a quick spell. His eyes glowed yellow – _So that's what it looks like_ , thought Merlin – and light flashed over the charms and subsided. "Here. You and James wear them. No charge. You can't take care of Bethy if you are sick too."

During that interaction, Merlin was watching Arthur curiously. The prince was containing nerves with his usual calm demeanor, but Merlin could see the tension in him. In a way, this was perfect. Arthur was getting to see a sorcerer acting in an official capacity, in an emergency situation for which he could not possibly have prepared. And Broderick was living up to what Merlin had always believed – magic could be used to do good, to help and heal.

Arthur was looking stoic but Merlin guessed he was probably feeling completely at sea. Surely the prince's world seemed to be turning upside down. Merlin wondered what was going through his mind.

By the time Kat was out the door, two others had arrived. Broderick, seeing that the prince seemed to be deep in thought rather than impatient at the delay, served several customers, and chased away several others who had simply come in for reassurance. "I know," he kept repeating. "I'll investigate and I'll inform the palace. Don't worry."

When things slowed down for a minute, Broderick closed the door again. This time, as he did so, he hung a closed sign on a nail Merlin hadn't noticed on the outside of the door.

He turned back to the prince with a questioning look. After a breath, Arthur responded to it.

"I would like to ask you some questions first."

"Go ahead."

"What do you do here?"

"I work for the crown, serving the people of the town with magic and providing protection from magical things."

"What can your magic do?"

"How do I answer that? Lots of things, but none of them very powerful. I can make charms against fire, pests, and disease. Wooden ones last only a short time, but with more time and effort and a silver charm, they can be nearly permanent. I can make tools unbreakable, or cause a honed blade to hold its edge. I can make light, or a soft breeze."

"You mentioned a spell that is illegal. What makes a spell illegal?"

"Any spell that infringes on a person's free will is illegal. Forcing someone to tell the truth falls under that category. So do love potions, for that matter. If I cast a spell that is illegal, it will be found out, and I will no longer be employed by the crown."

"How will it be found out?"

"Because once a year, I am asked under truth spell if I have cast any illegal spells. Lie, and I'm out. Fail to answer and I'm out. Answer truthfully 'no', and I continue in my position."

Arthur's eyes slid to Gwaine for a moment, then away. "Could you make someone believe you were there when you weren't?" Merlin was puzzled for a moment, then remembered, _He thinks Gwaine might be Emrys._

"Me? No. I can't. There are mages who could, but again, free will. It's illegal."

There was a silence. Merlin could tell Arthur was thinking hard.

"All right. Go ahead. Cast the spell, but understand that I will only answer questions that pertain directly to your task of ascertaining whether or not I am a threat to your king."

The actual spell was anticlimactic. Broderick asked only three questions: Are you truly Prince Arthur of Camelot? Do you intend any ill toward this land, its people, or its rulers? Do you vouch for your companions and take responsibility for their actions? When Arthur had answered each question honestly, Broderick dismissed the spell.

"The petition to cross the bridge will go to the palace this evening. I expect it will take a day or three, what with the odd things going on. I will let you know when we hear back."

He sighed. "And now I'd better open my shop again, if only to let people see I haven't abandoned them."

A very quiet Arthur took his leave and exited the shop, with his companions trailing behind.

After a moment, Gwaine apparently couldn't stand the quiet any longer. "Is anyone else wondering," he asked, "where exactly the palace _is_?"

 **Author's note: Thanks very much for reading! I hope you're still enjoying the story. Let me know what you think – and if you've found a mistake, please let me know so I can fix it before I inflict it on anyone else!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Palace

**Wheels have been set in motion to get Merlin and his friends in contact with the Royal Mage. But Broderick is a bit distracted by the strange events of the last two nights.**

 **Author's note: Retroactive spelling change: Signonen (name of Broderick's country) = Cygnonen**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 7 – Palace**

Having left Broderick's shop, Arthur was silently leading the way. Where, exactly, he was going was not evident to Merlin, but the prince's demeanor suggested that curiosity would not be welcome.

When the silence was broken by Gwaine's question, "Is anyone else wondering where the palace is?" Merlin looked all around. He hadn't seen a castle as they approached the town the day before and didn't see one now. Still, Broderick's comments suggested that the palace was nearby. Gwaine glanced his way, and Merlin shrugged. _Why does it feel like I'm doing that a lot lately?_ he wondered.

When Arthur slowed up a bit, his intention came clear. They were in the largest open area they'd passed through, in which they'd seen the street vendor. It was now a bustling farm market. The previously empty space bordered by bright shop banners was now filled with farm carts and customers, mostly women, who were sorting through the farmers' first pick of the day. Quite a few of the proprietors of the shops bordering the square were out in front of their shops, often in pairs with heads together. The whole square was abuzz with conversation.

"Spread out," ordered the prince. "See what you can hear, talk with those who are willing. Find out what you can."

"About the palace?" asked Gwaine.

"About what happened last night." Arthur paused, frowned. "And about the palace. Meet back here," he looked up at the sky, "in an hour."

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Merlin turned to rejoin his prince, he had found out where the castle was. He was smiling at the recollection of a conversation he'd had with an old man selling greens when someone bounced off of him.

"Merlin, ya gotta protect me," begged Gwaine with a wink. "See that woman?"

Merlin followed Gwaine's gaze, and found himself meeting the eyes of a woman in her late thirties who was sporting a predatory smile. Gwaine groaned theatrically. "She won't stop talking to me. And she keeps calling me 'lovely'. Protect me."

"Were you flirting with her?" _As if I needed to ask._

"Well, I was, and then I was just trying to get away."

Merlin laughed and dragged Gwaine into the depths of the crowd, breaking the woman's line of sight, and then headed for their meeting place.

"So what did you find out?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once the companions had compared notes, the consensus seemed to be that everyone was talking about the events of the previous nights, but nobody could quite agree on what happened. Some people said Silas was hurt by the marching soldiers. Others said that he'd just fallen over backward in drunken surprise and bruised his back.

The interactions between the injured Greeley and his compatriots were similarly confused between aggression on the part of the soldiers or on the part of Greeley, who most folks agreed was a troublemaker. Reports varied as to whether Greeley was badly injured or barely scratched, but Merlin was struck by the lack of concern on the part of most of the townsfolk. They mostly seemed to think that whatever had happened to Greeley, he'd probably deserved it.

Speculation as to where the soldiers were going, and why, ran rampant. Theories went from ghosts re-enacting some long ago battle, to brigands out of the mountains attacking the town, to magically reanimated bodies sent to attack the palace, to even more unlikely possibilities. Everyone seemed certain they knew, and apparently nobody actually did.

Estimates of the number of mysterious soldiers, a piece of information for which it hadn't occurred to Merlin to ask, ranged from nine to twenty.

The only pieces of information that seemed to be the same in nearly every story were that the soldiers were armored, strange, and were seen in the square.

A silent moment followed, as everyone digested the information. Then Merlin broke the tension with a smile.

"I found out where the palace is. It's just across the river."

Arthur looked toward the river. From their vantage point, nothing could be seen above the buildings and the walls beyond except clear blue sky. He looked back at Merlin.

"We would have seen a castle on our way in. There's just the bridge, and the road going on from the other side of the river. There's no castle there."

"You can't _see_ the castle." He paused to savor the expression on the prince's face. "Apparently the castle, during a battle long ago, was placed under a very special, very powerful shield spell. Nobody can enter the shield, or even see into it, without permission from the crown. After the war was over, they didn't take the shield down right away, just in case. Then the mage who cast the spell died in a freak accident. He didn't have an apprentice, and nobody knows how to take it down. So they're stuck with an invisible castle." He had to raise his voice slightly, to be heard over Gwaine's laughter. "Well, not quite invisible. I'm told that as soon as we're halfway across the bridge, we'll be able to see it."

As he was speaking, Merlin could see Broderick out of the corner of his eye. The mage had worked his way through the crowd and stepped up onto a raised platform near the center of the square. He cleared his throat, and all over the square, heads turned. The mage's voice was magically amplified and could be heard clearly even as far away as Merlin stood.

"Alright, folks, listen up. I have a report for you. After having interviewed all those who saw the soldiers last night, and sending my information to the palace, I have been given orders. Tonight all citizens are to be indoors by moonrise. The watch will be doubled on all the gates, and I am to stand watch in the square with a group of volunteers. We will not engage these creatures, but watch to see what they do and where they go. I need ten or so men, some to watch from rooftops and others to accompany me on the ground. O'Reilly, you are hereby volunteered – I want to know if they are the same individuals you and Greeley saw. Who else is willing?"

Curious, Merlin followed Broderick's gaze. The man the mage had named appeared to be unhappy with this turn of events, but unwilling to object publicly. Soon several other men had volunteered, and Broderick was stepping down from the platform and working his way through the crowd toward Arthur and his companions.

"Prince Arthur," he began when he was close enough, "the palace has sent word. You are to cross the bridge at noon to meet with Magus Serena. She is the apprentice to the Royal Mage. Don't let that fool you, though, she's empowered to get you a hearing with the King – or not – as she judges appropriate. Meet me at my shop, and for heaven's sake, don't be late!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Not much later, the companions arrived at Broderick's shop, Arthur dressed in a new outfit that had raised Merlin's eyebrows. It looked easily as rich as the clothing the prince wore at home for state occasions. "Clothing is a tool of diplomacy, Merlin," the prince had responded. "If we want to be treated as visiting royalty, I need to look the part."

Seeing them arriving, Broderick stepped out of his shop, setting the closed sign and pulling the door to behind him. Arthur's raiment elicited a smile. "Good choice. Now let's proceed."

Broderick led them through the streets to the Bridge Gate. The town had three other gates, he explained, River North, River South, and Eastland. This afforded the castle two layers of protection, as all gates were guarded. Broderick had permission to bring them across the bridge, so the guards at the Bridge Gate would have already been notified of Arthur's impending arrival.

The bridge began at a stout gate house which straddled the road. The guards in the midnight blue tabards with swan insignia, which Merlin now knew was the uniform of the Cygnonen Royal Guard, saw Broderick. Four of them snapped to attention as the fifth approached Arthur.

"Prince Arthur?" he asked. A sidelong glance at Broderick, and Broderick's nod, supplemented Arthur's polite acknowledgment. "You are expected, Sire. Welcome to Castle Cygnonia. Go on ahead across the bridge. Someone will be waiting on the other side to conduct you to Magus Serena." He drew aside and also snapped to attention as Arthur and his companions passed through the gate house and out onto the bridge.

The party walked out over the water. As Merlin passed the blue pennants that Broderick said marked the middle of the bridge, a shiver passed over him. It felt as if a wash of cool water had drenched him, then the sensation was gone as if it had never been, and suddenly the castle was there. It was white stone, a fanciful conglomeration of towers and parapets, surrounded by a tall curving wall that led away from the water on either side. The riverside was a riot of colors – the blue of the water, green of the manicured lawns along the river, and a rainbow of ships' sails moored near the shore. At the castle's end of the bridge, a figure in deep blue robes awaited them.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Magus Serena turned out to be a woman of perhaps thirty years of age, with what seemed to be a perpetual frown. She took them to an antechamber just inside the castle gate. Upon introduction, her gaze slid over Merlin, Gwaine, and Leon dismissively. Arthur she accorded the bare minimum of respect due a visiting prince. _Bet Arthur was right_ , Merlin thought. _If we'd come looking like we did when we arrived in town, she wouldn't have given us the time of day._ She requested Arthur's description of how he had come to be in these lands, and appeared to listen carefully as he gave it. After several clarifying questions, mostly regarding the behavior of the portal, she turned to Broderick.

"You have verified his identity?" Broderick, seeming slightly tongue-tied, nodded wordlessly. "Very well. I do not require further substantiation. As to your request for access to our maps and possibly our portals, I judge it necessary that you speak with their majesties. This cannot be done today. However, I will see to it that you are given an audience as soon as the current situation allows. Do you have acceptable accommodations in town?"

"I do."

"Very well. I will send word through Magus Broderick when I have an audience set up." It was clearly a dismissal, and she bowed and turned to go. Arthur spoke up.

"Magus Serena?"

"Yes, Sire?"

"Regarding the situation in town – I heard Broderick requesting men to help track and observe the enemies sighted in town. I also noticed that none of the men who volunteered seem, shall we say, particularly battle-hardened. Will the guard be joining Broderick?"

"Broderick is a town mage." Her lip curled a bit as she said it, and Broderick reddened. "He needs very little protection. If you wish to allow your guards to join him, that is acceptable. But there should be no need for the Royal Guard to join him. They will be stationed at the gates and can respond if there is trouble." Again she bowed and this time made good her escape.

-o-o-o-o-o-

On the way back to the inn, Arthur was quiet. He offered to join Broderick in his watch that night, but after Broderick gratefully accepted, the prince said little else. It wasn't until they had gotten back to the inn and he'd gone upstairs with Merlin to change out of his finery that he sighed and said, "This is a strange land."

Merlin knew better than to ask. Often the prince shared most when he was not prompted. He helped the prince shrug out of his richly embroidered tunic, and turned to lay it out so that it would not wrinkle.

"Magic is everywhere. Everyone seems to think it's ordinary. Broderick seems to be a good man, and the things he does are good for the people. But how would one know which sorcerer to trust? A sorcerer could seem to be a good man, and not be so." Arthur paused, his face troubled behind the mask.

"That's true, I suppose," Merlin responded carefully, "but it's also true of every man you meet. Any person can appear to be a fine, upstanding citizen, and maybe most of them really are. And then some aren't."

"And one doesn't truly know until one knows the man well." Arthur finished the thought. He lapsed into silence, deep in thought, as Merlin shook out the prince's shirt and held it for him. Then he continued. "They have a way to control the mages employed by the crown, though it requires magic to do it. I wonder what they do to control the sorcerers who are not crown mages."

"Don't know. But maybe it's not about control so much as, well, enforcing the laws. Broderick mentioned one law regarding magic, there are probably others."

"I wonder what their laws are regarding magic."

"Broderick could probably give you chapter and verse, if you asked."

"Hmm."

When Arthur said nothing more, and turned his attention to the door, Merlin dropped the subject and followed his prince out of the suite and back to the common room to join Gwaine and Leon. He was heartened that the prince seemed to be thinking about how this land worked. Maybe, hopefully, seeds had been planted that one day could take root in Camelot.

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time they got back downstairs, Gwaine had gathered a small crowd around him and was animatedly telling a story, gesturing enthusiastically, sometimes to the detriment of the drink in his hand. "And then Merlin says, "I'd like to see you try," and the big guy gets up. It was a rousing fight – furniture flying and all. I think Merlin ended up behind the bar with the barmaid, and who knows what was happening back there…"

Arthur bypassed the crowd and found an unoccupied table. He settled into a chair, and gestured to Merlin that he might be seated. Gianna was on her way over to ask their pleasure, chuckling at Gwaine's enjoyment of his tale, when the inn door was darkened by a large young man with brown wavy hair and a handsome face.

"Gianna!" said the newcomer, striding across the room, grabbing Gianna around the waist, and plastering her full against his body. "Did you miss me yesterday?"

Based on the look on Gianna's face, the answer was an emphatic, "No!" She employed both elbows to wedge her body away from his, and then wriggled free of his grip. "Greeley," she said. "I'd heard you'd been hurt."

"Just a scratch, doll. Maybe later you'll want to check for yourself, though."

Merlin could see from Gianna's face that she wanted to do nothing of the sort, and was desperate to be away from this man.

He caught Gianna's eye, and then said, "Gianna, could I have an ale for myself and one for the prince?" She bobbed a curtsy, mouthed, "Thank you!" to Merlin, and left to get the drinks. Greeley, after casting a curious glance at Prince Arthur, joined two men at another table and turned his attention to the commotion around Gwaine's table. The afternoon passed.

-o-o-o-o-o-

At sunset, Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon met Broderick in the square. The mage had set watchers on the roofs near each of the gates with orders to wave a torch when they spotted the creatures. This left Arthur and his party, Broderick, and five citizens to watch in the square. They had set up a merchant's wagon and a few stacks of wooden crates to conceal themselves behind, and settled in to wait.

It was helpful that the night was mild and pleasant, because it wasn't until nearly two hours after moonrise when they saw the signal. Broderick and the townsmen looked at each other. "Eastland Gate?" someone whispered. "I'd'a thought it'd have been River North Gate, ya know? From the mountains?"

Broderick made a hushing movement and peered out in the direction of the signal. Arthur and Leon shifted quietly toward the other end of the cart and quietly slipped swords out of their sheaths. Merlin could hear the soft slide of Gwaine's blade slipping free next to him. Soon they could hear footsteps and the creak and jingle of armor. Merlin peeked around his crate and saw the figures enter the square.

Now he knew why the theme of the descriptions had been, 'strange'. These were men, but something was off. Their skin was an unhealthy color, ashen and almost grayish, and the dead look in their eyes made Merlin shiver. Most living things, to Merlin, had a feeling of welling energy and a sense of connection to the earth. These men had the sense of connection, but not the energy. In fact, it felt to Merlin as if energy was being sucked into them. He shivered again.

The soldiers, for soldiers they did seem to be, were eight in number. They paced quietly through the town, looking neither left nor right. Moving through the square, they passed the watchers with no evidence of having seen them, and continued on. "Toward the bridge," murmured Broderick in the softest of whispers. "Now we follow them." Arthur waved Leon and Gwaine to come, and pointed from Merlin to Broderick with a stern look, and ghosted in the wake of the soldiers. They traveled through the town without incident. Apparently the citizens had taken Broderick's announcement seriously, and were within doors.

The first sign of trouble reared its head as they approached the gate leading to the bridge. There should have been guards. At first, Merlin thought there weren't. Then he realized that there were eight inert forms lying scattered about in the gateway. Broderick must have seen them, for Merlin heard a rapidly indrawn breath.

The strange soldiers began to hasten their strides, and one of them reached into a pouch and withdrew a small object. The magic radiating from it nearly took Merlin out at the knees. Broderick staggered, and his head whipped around to stare at the object in shock. "That thing!" he shouted. "Don't let it touch the shield!"

 _We're going to be fighting after all_ , thought Merlin. _Good thing Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon are here._

 **Author's note: Thanks for reading! I hope you're enjoying the story. Let me know if you are, and also, as always, if you see an error, please let me know.**


	8. Chapter 8 - Crystal

**The creatures in town have nearly reached the Bridge Gatehouse when one of them pulls out a magical item.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 8 – Crystal**

The item brandished by the creature looked ordinary enough. It appeared to be a chunky quartz crystal about as long as Merlin's index finger. To magical senses, however, it radiated the same kind of draining magic that the wolf's eyes had, but to so much greater a degree that Merlin was sure that contact with it would kill. Broderick must have come to the same realization.

"Don't touch it!" the mage shouted. "Don't touch that crystal. But make sure it doesn't touch the shield."

Arthur sprinted forward, followed a heartbeat later by Leon, Gwaine, and two brave townsmen who carried swords. They dashed around the group of figures, who did not respond in any way, and set themselves just inside the arch of the gate house, barring the way onto the bridge. "Attack any one of them who comes within range," Arthur ordered quietly. "Protect the man next to you. But don't let them push you back."

Then, with their way barred, the creatures finally seemed to take notice. They paused for a moment, then rearranged themselves so that they surrounded the one with the crystal. Swords swept out of sheaths in eerie unison, and they advanced on the prince and his companions, still ignoring Broderick, Merlin, and the remaining men.

When the first of the creatures stepped up to Arthur, the prince's sword lashed out and the battle began. Clashes of metal on metal echoed off the gatehouse and through the empty streets. Quickly, though, it became apparent that these were not precisely living men. The one that Merlin blasted into a wall simply got back up. Another one, on fire courtesy of Broderick, simply continued to fight in complete disregard of the flames wreathing its body. Wounds that should have killed did not slow them down. The loss of a limb hampered them, but did not stop them from continuing to press toward the bridge. Arthur managed to behead one, and it dropped in its tracks, but the five men were still being pushed backward.

To make matters worse, a townsman next to Merlin seemed to suddenly lose his head in the excitement. He ran up to one of the figures, trying to strike it with the club that was his only weapon. The creature snatched it from his hand, and pushed his arm away. The effect was startling. The man turned white and sank to the ground moaning, suddenly emaciated. Merlin blinked and looked again. _I didn't imagine it. He's all of a sudden thinner,_ much _thinner, than he was just a second ago._ He shouted in warning, "Don't let them touch you!" and reaching out, he quickly cast shields over Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon. Shields wouldn't protect them from physical damage, of course, but maybe would protect them from the effects of the creature's touch.

We need that crystal out of play, Merlin thought. He tried to lift it out of the creature's hands, but the creature was shielded somehow. He prodded the shield. It was strong, reminiscent of Morgause's shields; probably he could batter his way through, but it would take time, and probably lightning, which didn't seem advisable with friends nearby.

Broderick had given up on the flame spell, and was muttering something Merlin wasn't familiar with. The figure in front of Gwaine suddenly froze. Gwaine took advantage of his foe's weakness, and with a mighty blow parted head from body. The second creature fell.

 _Wish I knew that spell,_ thought Merlin. _If we survive this I'll ask Broderick to teach me._ He lifted a barrel from nearby, sent it floating over to the front lines of the battle, and then smashed it down over the head of one of the creatures near Gwaine. The creature didn't seem to be harmed, but the metal bands and splintering wood of the barrel fouled its arms, and Gwaine finished it off. Arthur beheaded another one. Even as he did so, though, one of the brave townsmen who had followed Arthur went down, thinning the ranks of the defenders between the creatures and the shield.

"Broderick!" Merlin shouted. "Can you do that to the one with the crystal?" Broderick paused, concentrated, shook his head vigorously and tried again. Nothing.

"Can't get through," he called back above the clatter.

As the battle continued, it became clear that creatures were being winnowed, but with the need to avoid their touch, the defenders were steadily being pushed back, step by step, out onto the bridge. Merlin's shields on Arthur and Gwaine had already taken hits, and though Leon had avoided being touched by the creatures, he was still hard pressed. Arthur took out yet another creature, and for a moment, the way to the bearer of the crystal was clear. The prince leapt into the space, ignoring Leon's shout of protest, and engaged the creature.

The creature seemed to realize that it was in grave danger. It looked ahead, across the bridge and evidently came to a decision. It took three steps backward, away from Arthur, and hurled the crystal as hard as it could toward the center of the bridge.

The crystal flew through the night air toward the shield, arcing over Arthur's head. Merlin could hear Broderick curse. _Can barely pick up a twig,_ Merlin remembered the mage saying. Merlin's magic acted almost without his knowing it. Everything slowed down – except for Merlin and Arthur. As Merlin's attempt to snatch the crystal from the air with magic failed and an icepick seemed to go through Merlin's head, making him stagger, Arthur made an athletic leap, reaching up and back with the tip of his sword. He succeeded in deflecting the course of the crystal. It hit the ground in slow motion, bounced off the knee-high wall along the edge of the bridge, and tumbled to a stop less than a hand span from the center of the bridge. In the quiet moment that followed, as time returned to its normal course, Merlin looked up to see Broderick looking at him, eyebrows raised. The mage smiled gently, bowed his head subtly in respect, and looked up across the bridge.

It was only at that point that Merlin became aware of reinforcements arriving from the castle side of the bridge. The addition of perhaps twenty Guardsmen made short work of the remaining creatures, while the mages, Merlin, and Arthur gathered around the crystal. One of the new arrivals was Magus Serena. The other was a stranger, a woman perhaps fifty years of age, whose keen gray eyes were surrounded with wrinkles that suggested that she laughed more than she frowned. She was smiling now.

"Well done, gentlemen." Her voice was a velvety contralto. "Well done indeed." She looked from Merlin to Arthur. "Prince Arthur, I presume?" Without waiting for his confirmation, she continued, "I am Royal Magus Emily. We are in your debt."

"It was my honor."

"Nevertheless, we are grateful. Now, what can we find out about this crystal you prevented from wrecking our shields?" She extended her hand above it, and addressed Broderick and Serena. "Can either of you detect an identity behind this?" she asked. Serena shook her head, but Broderick spoke up.

"I'm not sure who it is," he said hesitantly, "but it's someone male and young. And arrogant."

"How can you possibly know that?" demanded Serena.

"I can feel it. Can't you?"

Merlin extended his senses as unobtrusively as he could. _Yes. I can feel him_. For a moment, Merlin could see a face, young and angry, in his mind's eye. Emily looked up sharply at him. Her eyes slewed to Broderick, who quietly nodded but raised a finger to his lips, as Serena spoke.

"Certainly I can detect it… I just…" Serena floundered, over their interaction.

Magus Emily's head cocked curiously, but she returned her attention to her apprentice and responded. "Broderick's right. I feel the same. Did you think he was weak, Serena, just because he is a town mage?"

"Ah-"

"Broderick is a town mage because that is where his talents lie. The people of the town don't need lightning, Serena, or blasting. They need healing, help with daily chores, protection from fire, wind, and flood. They also need kindness, tact, and practicality. Broderick is good at exactly those things, which is why he is a town mage and you are not."

Merlin grinned at the expressions on both Broderick's and Serena's faces, and tried hard not to do a triumphal war dance. Broderick had straightened, and lost a bit of the hesitancy Merlin had noticed when he was around Serena. Serena looked like she'd been sucking on a lemon. _Good,_ thought Merlin, _Broderick needed to hear that. And so did Serena._

"There are matters to consider, in any case," the Royal Mage continued. "Young, male, and arrogant – I believe I may know who this is."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Magus Emily had left the guards in charge conveying the injured townsmen to the healers and dealing with the dead creatures. She took charge of the crystal herself, and after significant effort and with evident pain, she succeeded in wrapping it in several layers of magical shielding. Taking the crystal along, she brought Arthur and his companions to the castle.

Merlin enjoyed glimpses of a banquet hall with an enormous table and a ballroom whose crystal chandeliers glinted even in the light from the lamps in the hallway. Even the entryway was beautiful, with its carpets, gleaming hardwood, and portraits of kings and queens long past. _Castle Camelot is a fortress,_ thought Merlin. _This is a mansion._

Soon they were seated with Emily around a heavy wooden table in a richly appointed meeting room, and servants were pouring water into goblets and offering light refreshments. As soon as they were finished, Emily dismissed the servers and began a courteous but thorough debriefing. Soon she knew as much as they did about the appearance and behavior of the strange creatures, and had a timeline of their arrival and the battle that ensued. She seemed most interested in the creatures, and when Broderick described the difficulty they'd had actually killing the creatures, she sighed.

"I do know who this is." She paused for several seconds, thinking, then continued. "There was a mage a few years ago named Brennan. You'd probably remember him, Broderick."

"He was the town mage for Smiths Landing, if I recall, but then was dismissed." Broderick was clearly curious, but too polite to ask.

"He was experimenting with illegal magic. Specifically, magic that separates spirit from body, or reanimates a fallen body, which of course returns without the spirit. We'd had watchers on him, but about six months ago he gave them the slip and we lost track of him. We've had searchers out, of course, but hadn't had any sign of him until now. These creatures are his."

"If I may ask," put in Arthur, "what exactly are they?"

"We call them enferai. They were the bodies of men, returned to physical but not spiritual life. And the magic that pulled the life force into them remains, so they take the life force of any living thing they come into contact with. Hence the damage to those townsfolk. You were lucky you weren't touched."

"I was. But it did no damage."

Emily smiled. "That is lucky. Perhaps you are resistant to their magic." A slight shift of eyes in Merlin's direction suggested that Emily knew exactly how that happened. "Sire, may I ask a favor? In the morning, I will be taking a squad of the guard and a group of mages out to try to back track the enferai. We can deal with the mage, if we find him, but must consider that he may have more of the creatures guarding him. This is a peaceful land. So, while our men are brave and well-trained, they are inexperienced. Your assistance would be invaluable, and in return I offer to intercede with their majesties for you in your request to use our maps and portals."

"My men and I will accompany you."

"I am grateful. Very well, then. Let us all get some sleep. Shall we meet at the Eastland Gate at, say, one hour after dawn?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the morning, the innkeeper awakened them in good time, and yawning and rubbing his eyes, Merlin accompanied the prince, Gwaine, and Leon to the Eastland Gate. At first there was nobody there except for the gate guards and a solitary man in sturdy green and brown clothing who was standing quietly and watching the road that led toward the town square. Magus Emily arrived minutes after they did, with Serena, Broderick, and a young man Merlin did not know, in the robes of a magus. She was accompanied by thirty royal guardsmen. The man dressed in forester's garb came up to her immediately, and Merlin heard him speak.

"My lady mage, I believe I have found their tracks. They entered the road only half a mile from here, near the old graveyard in which there is something you should see."

"Lead on, Seth. We will follow."

The group set off down the road, following Seth. Here the road was well kept, and paved with flat stones, and walking was easy. As they walked, Magus Emily conversed with the prince, and it became apparent that while Arthur and his party had slept, Emily probably had not.

She had investigated how the creatures had gotten into the city in the first place, and discovered that the guards at both gates, Eastland and Bridge, had been the victims of a sleeping spell. They were unharmed, though somewhat embarrassed to have been found sleeping on the job. She had also checked on the injured from the battle near the Bridge gate. Two townsmen had sword wounds, and three had been touched by the enferai. All were in the care of the healers and were expected to recover fully.

The crystal had been examined briefly and confirmed to be designed to destroy the shield over the castle. "Taking the shield down is a necessary first step to an attack on the king and queen, or perhaps on me, all of whom Brennan blames for his loss of rank. I suspect that is his ultimate purpose, and so you have their majesties gratitude for thwarting his attempt."

They had only been walking for ten minutes when Seth stopped them again. "My lady mage, you will wish to examine the old graveyard," the scout suggested. "It has been disturbed."

Disturbed was a mild word, Merlin discovered, for what lay beyond a stand of trees. The graveyard had been partially overgrown at one time, but now the ground was torn up and trampled by many boots. There were holes dotting that disheveled landscape, man-made holes of the size needed to extract a body from the earth. Arthur must have been counting. "Thirty or so," he said quietly. _Thirty bodies, plus who knows how many men to do the digging,_ thought Merlin. _If they were men and not enferai._

Carefully, hesitantly, Merlin extended his magical senses into the earth around him. Expecting evil, he was surprised. There was almost nothing here. The birds and beasts were returning, the earth was regaining equilibrium, and the only remnant of the activity that had clearly taken place was a fast-fading sense of insult, of wrongness. Something had happened here, but there was no danger now.

Merlin returned to himself to find Emily and Broderick watching him. He shrugged and shook his head. Emily spoke to Seth. "There is no longer any danger here. Thank you for pointing this out. We can now continue."

At that point, their route turned off the road, and Seth requested that they follow him at a distance of twenty feet or so, in case there was difficulty following the tracks. After about an hour of hiking through the forest, climbing steadily, Seth halted the group and gestured Magus Emily forward. He pointed through the trees at a cliff rising perhaps a half mile away. "Watch for a minute," he said. "Watch the cliff top. There's someone up there. A lookout, probably." Merlin, along with everyone else, squinted through the branches. For several seconds, they saw nothing. Then a figure moved, and Merlin could see it. It was man-sized and shaped, but at this distance, Merlin could not make out details.

"Seth, is there a way up onto that cliff from this direction? Could a few of us sneak up there and take out the lookout?" asked Arthur.

Seth looked at Emily for confirmation, and at her nod, responded. "Yes, sire. We'd need to back track a bit, but we could do it."

"How tall would you say that cliff is, Seth?" asked Emily.

At Seth's estimate, she exchanged glances with the other mages. Broderick shook his head, but Serena and the other mage who had been introduced as Jacob nodded.

"I think we'll try taking him out from down here," Emily said. "Please make a note of his position, and let me know when we're as close as you think we're going to get to him – or when we get close enough that you think he might spot us." She looked back, looked ahead, and added, "Let us continue on."

The trail led closer and closer to the cliff. As they travelled, Seth spotted one more figure, this time on a ledge part way up the cliff. "They'll both see us if we move much further," the scout pointed out. "See how the trees thin out ahead? I think this is as close as we can get without risking being spotted. At this point, I think the tracks will lead to that crack in the cliff face. I'd bet a day's pay that's a cave."

Emily called Serena and Jacob to her, and Merlin drifted as close as he could without drawing attention to himself. "With the help of the two of you, we should have the range to reach both of the lookouts with a sleep spell. We'll begin with the one on the cliff. Support me, as I have shown you. I will direct the spell." They began, each of the younger mages placing one hand on Emily's arm.

Merlin could feel their efforts, feel Emily stretching out toward the first lookout. He felt the power flowing, and suddenly realized how to help. He allowed his own power to flow into that stream, supporting Emily's. Emily stiffened, then Merlin felt soft surprised laughter and wordless welcome. Emily stretched forth again, this time effortlessly.

The figure on the top of the cliff dropped, and Emily shifted her attention to the other lookout. Moments later that one had fallen as well. Then Merlin heard the royal mage's voice in his mind, as if she had whispered in his ear. "Merlin, well done. You surprise me yet again."

Seeing that the lookouts had fallen, Seth smiled and had began gathering everyone, preparatory to moving on, when Arthur addressed Magus Emily.

"My lady mage, if I were them, I would station another lookout just inside the cave mouth. We would not be able to see him in the darkness, but he would see us. It might be wise to approach from the sides instead of directly."

"That seems prudent. Prince Arthur, you have the most experience with this type of maneuver. Would you care to suggest a course of action?"

The prince did, and soon Merlin, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon were moving quietly through the trees parallel to the cliff face in one direction while a group of four guardsmen, Broderick, and Seth did the same in the other direction. The other mages and remaining guards were staying back and hidden, and were awaiting their signal that the lookout had been neutralized.

Merlin hadn't realized, until he was out of sight of the larger group, how much he had missed the sense of camaraderie of time spent with just these three men. Riverton was a wonder, Broderick was becoming a friend, and Gianna was, well, he wasn't quite sure what Gianna was other than beautiful, but it was all so busy. New people, new places, new ideas, and coping with Arthur's struggles to absorb it all. He'd missed the familiar. He'd missed the quiet sounds of the forest, Arthur's self-contained presence, Leon's calm one, and Gwaine's quick grin that met his eyes every time he looked that way. He'd missed these moments of ease and familiarity, even if this one did come at the cost of assaulting a mage's stronghold that was probably filled with enferai.

Too soon it ended, though, and Merlin was plastered with his back to the cliff face, edging toward the cave mouth behind Gwaine. Across the way, he could see the guards approaching stealthily from the other side of the entrance. Arthur waited until they arrived, and made eye contact with the first man. On upheld fingers, he counted down…three…two…one…

They poured into the cave mouth, and as expected, deep enough inside the dimness of the cave that they would never have been seen from outside, stood two figures armed with spears. Merlin, at the back of the group with Broderick, took a quick look around. The cave was natural and relatively narrow, with a high jagged ceiling. The floor was rough and scattered with rocks and leaf litter, making for uncertain footing. The light coming in the opening faded quickly, leaving the cave pitch dark only a short distance from the mouth. _I can fix that,_ thought Merlin. When a quick check proved that nobody was looking his way, he cast two balls of light in rapid succession and sent them floating up to hover above each of the armed enemies. The creatures looked ghastly, for the ashen skin of an enferai turned gray in the bluish light.

"Enferai," Merlin heard Arthur mutter as he leaped forward and a very short battle was joined. Broderick immediately paralyzed the enferai directly in front of Arthur. _Blast it, I still haven't gotten him to teach me that,_ Merlin grumbled to himself. He was slapping a shield over Gwaine, who was toe-to-toe with the other creature, when a thought occurred to him. Wouldn't Broderick's spell be illegal?

Less than one minute after they had entered the cave, the second enferai went down, and a royal guardsman hastened back out of the cave mouth to signal the rest of the group to advance. When the full group had gathered, Arthur looked at Emily, who gestured, "Go ahead."

Arthur took command, and they began silently advancing through the twisting passages of the cave by the light of two floating bluish globes.

 **Author's note: I was so proud of my "new" word for the undead creatures, until my 14-year-old said, "I like that you used the Harry Potter word for the zombies." And sure enough, when I looked it up, my "new" word is actually very similar to J.K. Rowling's, 'inferi', which I'm sure I subconsciously remembered. But I don't have a better option, so it's going to stay for now. Any suggestions for a replacement? If I like yours best, I'll change it and credit you!**

 **Hope you're still enjoying the story! Updates are going to slow down through December and January, but don't worry, they'll still be coming. Thanks for sticking with me - I so appreciate the reads and 'specially the reviews!**


	9. Chapter 9 - Caves

The sentries have been neutralized. Now Merlin accompanies Arthur, Gwaine, Leon, Broderick, and the mages of Cygnonnen into the caves from which the enferai came.

In the Vaults of Camelot

Chapter 9 – Caves

The cave seemed to be a natural formation, improved by human hands only where the route would otherwise have required crawling or squeezing to advance. At the first split in the passages, Arthur and Emily had conferred, and decided to split into three groups. A small contingent, including only Leon and the mage Jacob, would stand guard at the place where the tunnels separated. The rest would explore in two groups to cover ground more quickly.

"Broderick and Jacob can speak to me at a distance," Emily had explained, "so if we have need of one another, we can communicate through them."

With that, she had assigned Broderick and a group of guardsmen to Arthur, and turned away with the rest of the group. Soon the sound of their footsteps had receded into the whispers of the cave sounds which seemed to include a very soft whispering and an even fainter rushing, gurgling sound.

Arthur led the way down the other passage, and their exploration began. The passage they were following sloped very gently down, and though it was nearly smooth underfoot, there was water seeping from the walls and flowing steadily in a shallow sheet along the floor. Within minutes, Merlin's feet were soaked and freezing, and so was his rear end, since he'd slipped and fallen, landing on the seat of his pants in the frigid water. The air was cool, and getting colder the farther they went from the opening. He tucked chilled fingers under his arms and hunched his shoulders against the cold as he followed his prince through the twisting passages. Slanting a glance up at Arthur, he caught his friend staring at the globes of light that were bobbing alongside the group.

"Merlin," he said quietly, though surely in the echoing confines of the passage his words were carrying to the rest of the group. "Those globes. See how two are bluish and the other one is just white? The blue ones look exactly like the ones I saw in the cave with the spiders."

Merlin tried to sound curious rather than guilty. "That's what they looked like?"

"Yes. So either Emrys is here with us, or helping from a distance again."

"Maybe a mage can make whatever color they want. I'd make some green ones," put in Gwaine from behind them. "Or maybe purple just for fun. Or different colors each time."

Merlin had to grin. Trust Gwaine to come up with a way to play with the idea. If Gwaine were the sorcerer, they probably would have an entire herd of globes of light in myriad colors bobbing along with them.

Arthur stopped suddenly, and Merlin nearly walked into him. "Everyone stop," barked the prince sharply, turning to grab a handful of Merlin's tunic. When Merlin looked ahead to see what had occasioned the warning, he saw the water flowing along the floor of the passage pouring quietly over the edge of a cliff no more than three feet in front of Arthur's boots, making a soft splashing sound as it dropped out of sight. Beyond that edge, there was only blackness.

Merlin nudged his globes of light out ahead, and the additional white globe followed, as the prince carefully stepped forward to look. When Merlin did the same, he saw that while the water poured off the edge, the path turned left, hugging the wall of a cavern big enough that the light of the globes didn't reach ceiling or opposite wall, and barely reached the floor nearly thirty feet down.

"Broderick," the prince said as he stepped sideways a bit to let the mage come up to the edge, "are these yours? Can you get us some more light?"

"I can, sire," responded the mage, with a sidelong glance at Merlin. As Merlin begin moving his globes away at angles from his position, Broderick lifted his up and as it glowed brighter and brighter, the chamber was revealed.

It was a huge roughly oval chamber, its ceiling extending upward nearly fifty feet above their heads and its walls stretching hundreds of feet directly away from them, the far end still not fully revealed despite the increased light. The floor of the chamber lay open and empty below them, with a small stream flowing through it, fed by the tiny waterfall by Arthur's feet and several other similar cascades flowing down the walls of the cavern. Beginning under Arthur's feet at the north end of the space, a ledge formed the path that ran around clockwise almost to the southern end of the cavern, maintaining its thirty-foot height above the floor. Looking along the ledge, following the east wall with his eyes, Merlin could see a passage leading away into darkness, away from the chamber. Had he seen a hint of movement in the dimness? Merlin watched, but saw nothing more.

As Merlin was observing, Gwaine had worked his way up to the edge, gripping Merlin's shoulder and leaning past him to look all around.

"Wow," the young man commented, looking upward and outward in wonder. "Does anyone else feel suddenly very small?" His voice echoed strangely in the quiet. Merlin quirked a smile over his shoulder, and Broderick wordlessly patted Gwaine's arm, but nobody spoke.

After a moment, the prince turned away from the vista. "Let's continue." Merlin dropped to the back of the party to get away from Arthur's eye. He needed to know if he'd really seen movement. Letting his magical senses flow outward, he quested in the direction of that passage. _Yes. There's something there_ , he thought. _And from the sense of energy spiraling into them, it's enferai. But how to tell Arthur?_ Remembering what Emily had said about Broderick, he spoke silently to the mage. _Broderick, can you hear me?_ Broderick turned and nodded subtly. _Could you tell Arthur there are enferai hidden in the passageway off to the left up ahead?_

Broderick stopped and looked briefly from Merlin to the side passage and back to Merlin, then spoke softly to the prince, who nodded but continued on.

When the group reached the side passage, there were indeed two enferai, standing silently in the dimness. They attacked as soon as Arthur and his party appeared. Still, with Broderick's spell to paralyze one, they were dispatched with ease. This time, Merlin happened to be standing right next to the mage when he cast. _I think I heard all of it that time_ , thought Merlin. _The next one we encounter, I'm going to try that spell._

"Think we're on the right track," Gwaine commented gaily. "Nobody sets guards when there's nothing to guard."

Arthur gestured Gwaine to silence, gathered a few hand-sized stones and arranged them to indicate the direction the party had taken, and gestured to the group that they would advance quietly. Gwaine slipped silently past Merlin to take position right behind Arthur, and Broderick dropped back next to Merlin. With the guardsmen in the center, they moved up the passageway.

The passage was climbing gradually, Merlin noticed, and was blessedly dry. Soon it opened into a room sized chamber, empty of people, but lined with boxes and barrels. Arthur glanced around the room, and gestured forward. _Continue_.

The path continued through three more small chambers strung like beads on the passage. Each one was unoccupied, but clearly in use. One appeared to be larder, the next a bedchamber. The contents of the third room made Broderick's eyebrows climb, and sparked Merlin's curiosity, for the room was full of books and scrolls, stuffed onto shelves and even stacked on the floor. A desk piled with papers occupied one corner, with a chair standing empty behind it, and torches burning in brackets on the walls beside it. Gwaine walked over to one of the torches and gingerly reached for the flame. When a cautious touch did not cause him discomfort, Gwaine stuck his whole hand into the flame, grinned, and grabbed the torch. He turned to Merlin and brandished his prize in delighted demonstration, then turned back to Arthur, who was watching impatiently. Seeing that Gwaine's attention had been regained, the prince beckoned to the group and stalked silently down the passage toward the next chamber.

This chamber was different from any of the others, Merlin realized, as the passage opened out onto a landing several steps above the floor of a new chamber. This was huge space, but full of obstacles. Towering spires of stone rose from the floor, and other stone structures flowed from the ceiling, almost meeting in many places. The periodic sound of dripping overlay a steady gurgle coming from across the room, and the floor of the chamber glinted with moisture in many places. Lying on the chamber floor, positioned as if for the tomb, lay many still bodies. Ahead of Merlin, Arthur began descending a set of stone stairs leading down to the floor of that room. As he did so, the bodies began to stir.

Merlin heard Broderick curse, and felt the mage reach out. Hearing the echoes of a conversation, he knew that Broderick had summoned Emily. She and her group were coming on the run, Merlin knew, and just as well, for as body after body climbed to its feet, he realized that they were very thoroughly outnumbered. Just before he was too busy to think about it further, he also realized though he had heard Emily's response, there had been no response from Jacob. He hoped Jacob and Leon were all right.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The battle was raging, and Merlin soon had his hands very full trying to do several things at once. Their only source of light, aside from the torch that now lay at Gwaine's feet, was his and Broderick's light globes. Merlin was holding shields on Arthur and Gwaine. He was also holding two enferai at a time frozen, and blasting any enferai away who managed to work their way behind Arthur or Gwaine. He was busy enough that it took him a moment to notice the burst of light that heralded Emily's party arriving. They poured out from an opening in the wall that Merlin hadn't even noticed, several globes of light preceding them.

At the same time, however, the stone spires extending from the ceiling began behaving very strangely. Small ones began breaking off and falling. That alone would have been bad enough, but they didn't fall directly downward. They seemed to be aiming for the mages who had just arrived, or for Arthur, who was cutting a swathe through those among the enferai unwise enough to approach him. Most of the stone projectiles missed, but one struck Serena, who crumpled. Two peachy-colored light globes winked out. When several small spires directly above Emily worked themselves loose and began to fall, Merlin reached out and diverted them.

 _It's got to be that sorcerer – renegade mage – whatever he is. Brennan. But I don't see him…_

Before he could turn and look around, or bring his magic to bear to search, the blast hit him from behind, from the 'office' chamber they'd just left behind. Merlin felt his body fly off the steps and into the air. He flailed with both arms, trying to do he wasn't sure what, and collided solidly with a stone spire. The impact was stunning, and in that moment, he lost his grip on every spell he'd been maintaining. The light globes he'd summoned went out, several small stone spires fell unguided to the ground, two enferai were freed of his spell of paralysis, and the shields he'd placed on Gwaine and Arthur dropped.

Merlin tumbled down the pillar and hit the ground, landing flat on his back, the second impact knocking the wind out of him. His vision greyed out, and for a moment he was aware of very little beyond the struggle for air. Chest heaving as he tried to draw air back into his lungs, he rolled over and beheld a chilling sight.

Behind the prince, a new figure had raised his hands in Arthur's direction and was speaking a spell. The face matched the one Merlin had perceived linked to the crystal carried by the enferai. It was all Merlin had time to realize before the spell slammed into Arthur. The prince convulsed and fell, an expression of naked dread on his face, and then lay limp and still.

Fear tore through Merlin. He heard his own voice screaming, "No!" Magic gushed out of him and suddenly the path to Arthur was clear, enferai pushed away in every direction and frozen where they stood. Merlin skidded to his knees at his friend's side, frantically searching for a pulse, a sign of breath, any sign of life. When he could detect no pulse, he lowered his ear to Arthur's chest, hoping to hear the beating of his heart. There was nothing. _No. No. This cannot be. His destiny, mine… This can't be!_

Releasing the prince gently, Merlin gathered himself and rose to his feet, turning to face the necromancer Brennan. The vast sea of rage, loss, and shock inside him swelled, pouring out into the stone under his feet. The ground shook, but Merlin barely noticed. Magic surged in him as he looked upward at the jagged ceiling, found the biggest spire, and ripped it effortlessly free. The cave trembled and the rock groaned, as cascades of rock shards trailed down from above. Merlin was about to send it crashing down on the wizard who had stolen his friend and his destiny in one stroke, when he was halted by hands gripping his shoulders and Gwaine's face before his eyes. The spire hovered.

Gwaine looked pale, his eyes white rimmed and his expression grim. "Merlin!" he shouted in Merlin's face, shaking the young sorcerer hard. He flinched as shards rained down on them both, but kept his eyes locked on Merlin's. "Stop, Merlin. Don't do this." His voice softened. "You aren't going to be able to live with this. Please, Merlin. Stop."

Suddenly Emily was at Gwaine's elbow. "Merlin, remember what Brennan does. Arthur's spirit may well still be here, and will be unless Brennan dies. Let him live, and you may have a chance to save your friend."

For a moment, Merlin stood frozen, unable to act with the rage and loss that were ripping through him. Then logic began to return to him. Brennan, alive, represented a chance, both for Arthur and for Albion. Very well, then. Brennan would live. He pulled free of Gwaine, but sank to his knees next to Arthur. The giant pillar of stone slowly lowered itself to the ground and he re-channeled that released energy into a shield instead, trapping Brennan inside it. This shield was a physical shield as well as a magical one. Nothing would move into or out of that space – not weapons, not magic, not even air, and certainly not the renegade mage who had harmed Merlin's friend.

Satisfied that the mage could no longer threaten anyone or anything, Merlin gathered his friend's limp form into his arms, cradling the lolling head in the crook of his elbow. He looked up at Emily.

"What do I do? How do I get him back?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

It seemed to Merlin that he had been searching in this strange realm for as long as he could remember. Faint and far away, he could feel Gwaine's hand on his back, Arthur's limp, startlingly cold body in his arms, and the radiant chill of the cave floor beneath his shins. He was vaguely aware of a shining line of magic, stretched thin and tenuous, tying him to his body. But nearly all of his focus lay ahead – to the extent that the word could apply to a place that seemed to have no near or far, no up or down. It was a world of bitter cold and strange darkness, shot through with whispers of thoughts, glimmers of feelings. Somewhere in this darkness, he would find Arthur.

Merlin struggled to keep his mind on what Emily had told him. "You must search for Arthur's thoughts and feelings, that which makes him unique. Draw him to you, hold him tightly, and I will pull you back in."

So who was Arthur? A prat. Spoiled, arrogant. Stubborn. Oblivious. But… Courageous. Honorable. Loyal. Kinder than he wanted anyone to know. Determined to do what was right for his people. Desperate not to fail them, not ever. Desperate for his father's approval. Independent, sometimes to a fault.

As Merlin was thinking about Arthur, he caught something. It wasn't a glimpse, for there was nothing to see here. It wasn't a whisper, for there was no sound. Yet he heard it, felt it, knew it to be Arthur.

 _Fear._

It was none of the things Merlin had been looking for, but it made sense. Right now, Arthur would have every reason to be afraid. Here the prince had no solid footing, no ability to navigate. Diplomacy was of no use with nobody to hear his words. Force of arms was worthless with no weapon and no body with which to wield it. Arthur was lost and terrified. Merlin followed that fear into the icy dark.

Closer now. He could hear, or maybe feel, Arthur talking to himself.

 _(Fear.)_ _Don't panic. Stay calm. You're the prince, you aren't allowed to panic._

 _Arthur?_

 _Merlin!? (Guilty relief.) I shouldn't rely on him. He's my servant, my subject. He shouldn't have to save me, I should be saving him._

Merlin realized with vague embarrassment that he was hearing Arthur's thoughts.

 _Never mind that, Arthur, we need to get out of here. Emily can pull us out. You have to stay with me. Keep your mind and attention on me, think of what you know about me, and follow me._

Merlin could feel Arthur trying to do as he had asked, and could hear every word of an amusing and somewhat embarrassing litany.

 _Merlin. What do I know about Merlin? He's an idiot. Clumsy, except when he's not. No muscle on him yet, and growing like a weed. Far, far too cheerful, especially early in the morning. Naïve. Or maybe just extremely optimistic, I can't tell which. Kind. Softest heart I've ever seen, which is going to get him killed if I don't look out for him. Brave. And extremely loyal. Far more so than I deserve. Intelligent, though I can't tell him that. Even wise, sometimes. Definitely can't tell him that. Servant. And yes, friend._

Merlin could feel the line connecting him to his body tighten and instinctively grabbed on to it. He could sense that he was being towed back toward his body, but his grip on Arthur seemed to be slipping. He turned his attention back to the prince, and sank back into the feeling of searching as he had when he found Arthur. He knew Arthur might hear him, but as he recreated the thoughts that had led him to Arthur, he felt his grip firming.

 _Arthur. Prat. Spoiled, arrogant. Stubborn. Courageous. Honorable. Loyal. Kinder than he wants anyone to know. Determined to do what was right for his people. Desperate for his father's approval. Independent to a fault. Prince. Friend. Destiny._

 _(Discomfiture. Wonderment. Curiosity!) Destiny?_

Merlin felt them both being drawn upward and away. Then he was back in his own body, freezing cold and shaking, and Arthur was opening his eyes.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Emily's people finished mopping up the enferai while Merlin and Arthur were taken out of the cave into the summer sun, to warm up and recover. Arthur had been laid on a flat rock that had been baking in the sunlight. The prince was literally bluish with cold, barely conscious and too frozen even to shiver, and Merlin, sitting at his side, was finding himself feeling as though there was a core of ice in him that even the hottest sunlight couldn't reach.

Gwaine's hands pressing a cloth to the side of Merlin's head startled him, but when he started to pull away, Gwaine lifted the cloth and showed it to him, reddened as if by magic. "You're dripping blood everywhere, mate," his friend said. "Stay put and let me get this cleaned up. I think you dented the pillar with your head."

Merlin submitted to Gwaine's ministrations, slowly warming up while watching over his prince and observing the activities of the Guardsmen all around. Several men had just come out of the cave, carrying two limp bodies. Leon and Jacob were laid in the sun.

"Sleeping," explained a guardsman in response to Merlin's concerned look. "They'll wake up in a bit, Emily says. Brennan got 'em on his way in."

Movement by Merlin's knee caught his attention, and he looked down. Arthur was stirring. His color looked a little better, but Merlin didn't think exertion was a good idea yet. He set a hand on the nearest shoulder.

"Leon?" was the mumbled question. Arthur's body was clearly still weakened by the cold of that strange place, because Merlin's light touch was more than enough to restrain him.

"He'll be fine," replied Merlin. "Just stay still for now."

"I'm the prince, Merlin. Stop giving me orders." His diction was beginning to return to its usual crispness.

"Prat."

The usual insult did not garner quite the usual response. Arthur colored slightly, then smiled very faintly, clearly remembering the rest of Merlin's litany. He met Merlin's eyes and responded with a word Merlin knew would never mean quite the same thing again.

"Idiot."

 **Author's note: Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed - you are all wonderful! And a belated but huge thank you to Trekmel, who has been putting eyes on these ahead of time and giving me lots of suggestions, thoughts, and questions.**


	10. Chapter 10 - Gratitude

**Arthur's spirit has been retrieved and restored, and the necromancer Brennan has been defeated. Now is the time for Emily to make good on her promise to intercede with the King and Queen to get Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and Leon home.**

 **Author's note: This story is usually rated T solely for violence/injury, but this chapter contains an interaction that may also be a mild T for content. Greeley, the town tough, shows what a slimeball he is with regard to Gianna. I may be worrying unnecessarily, but just so nobody gets a surprise, I thought I should give warning!**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

 **Chapter 10 – Gratitude**

The aftermath of the battle in the caves passed in a blur for Merlin. It was some time before he even began to feel warm again, despite sitting on a rock ledge that was baking in the summer sun. He'd had to go back into the caves briefly, which hadn't helped. Evidently Emily had not been able to break the shield he'd set over Brennan, and the renegade mage was beginning to turn blue from lack of air. Still, soon enough he'd been back up on the rocks, back to warming up while trying to keep Arthur from getting up and moving around too quickly.

Once Arthur had recovered enough to walk, or at least to creditably claim to be able to do so, Emily gathered up the group and directed Seth to lead the way back to town. To his surprise and dismay, Merlin's whole body began shaking with exhaustion within the first half hour of travel. The prince walked on his own for the first hour back, refusing all offers of assistance, then collapsed to his knees in the middle of the trail. Only at that point had Leon's gently deferential offer of support been grudgingly accepted. Merlin had experienced a brief wave of what he suspected was jealousy, but shoved it down. He was in no condition to help the prince at the moment; he was barely keeping his feet. In fact, Gwaine was pacing Merlin conspicuously closely, probably wondering if Merlin was going to fall over as well.

"You and Merlin should rest," Emily advised the prince when they reached the door of the inn. "It takes time to recover from exposure to the spirit realm. You will need additional rest and warmth for at least a day, perhaps even two, for you were lost for far too long." She looked Arthur over, head cocked.

"Tomorrow I will send Broderick with a message from their majesties as to _when_ – not if – you will be permitted to use the portals. We are in your debt, Prince of Camelot, and we will get you home. And now, with your permission, I will leave you to your rest." With that she courteously took her leave.

 _And you, Merlin,_ he heard her in his thoughts as she turned to go, _We are most deeply in your debt as well. Think well, young mage, what you would have of us as a token of our gratitude. Rest well, and I will speak of this with you tomorrow!_

The common room of the inn was swarming with folk, all talking excitedly in clusters that fell into silence as Arthur and his party arrived. Arthur, having shaken free of Leon, paid no heed at all to the many eyes upon them, but headed up the stairs, ordering Merlin to accompany him. Leon and Gwaine exchanged glances. Gwaine followed Merlin, while Leon peeled off to catch the attention of one of the upstairs maids.

By the time Merlin and Gwaine had helped the prince out of his armor, Merlin was so tired that he couldn't quite get his eyes to focus. _This is ridiculous_ , he thought as he turned to hang up Arthur's armor padding. _I took a hike, cast a couple spells, I shouldn't be this tired._

Leon had caught up to them, followed by a maid carrying a giant stack of extra blankets. Merlin caught a scrap of a conversation between him and Gwaine, "…got Arthur, you take Merlin…" and then found the padding being tugged out of his hands and himself being steered toward his pallet. When he resisted, Gwaine simply tripped him, toppling him onto the pallet, and kept him there by capturing one ankle and tugging off his boot. By the time the other boot was off, blankets were being piled onto him. They were soft and warm, and seemed as heavy as lead. Merlin was too tired to resist any longer. He sank gratefully into sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The evening meal was being served, from the smell of things, when Merlin woke up. He sat up and looked around. Soft sounds and voices in the hallway indicated that someone was passing by. Through the door of the prince's chamber, Merlin could see that Arthur was still asleep, tangled in his usual cocoon of blankets with only one hand and a lock or two of blond hair visible. Gwaine and Leon were nowhere to be seen.

Rising, Merlin walked softly into Arthur's chamber. He carefully wrapped his fingers around the exposed wrist, trying not to wake his friend. The prince's pulse was strong enough, but his skin was, incredibly, still a bit cool. _It's the wrong time of year, but maybe they have a warming brick down in the kitchen?_ He tucked the hand back under the blankets, and resolved to go find out.

Quietly exiting the suite, Merlin encountered an unpleasant surprise. Greeley, the town tough that nobody seemed to care for, was in the shadows toward the end of the hallway. He had Gianna pinned to the wall, both of her wrists caught in one meaty hand. Gianna was struggling silently to free herself, her face tear-streaked. Merlin didn't need to consider. His magic responded and Greeley was torn away from Gianna and smashed into the door of the linen closet at the very end of the hallway.

 _I need to scare him_ , thought Merlin. _Enough that even after I've left, he will still leave her alone_. A gesture pinned Greeley where he was. Merlin took a few steps past Gianna, advancing on Greeley with as much threat as he had in him. "I'm not from around here, Greeley, and I'm _not_ subject to your laws on magic. So. Here's how it goes. I am going to cast a spell of protection on Gianna. If you ever mistreat her again, or even frighten her, the spell will call up your deepest fears from the depths of your mind. You'll see them, feel them, waking and sleeping, and you'll never sleep peacefully again." He used his magic one more time to yank Greeley off the wall and shove him roughly to the top of the stairs. "Go," he snarled. "Now. Don't return." The man fled down the steps and disappeared.

Turning back to Gianna, who was shakily wiping her eyes with her sleeve, he asked softly, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, but did not speak, clearly trying to repress sobs. Merlin stood for a moment, somewhat at a loss, then simply opened his arms. When she came into them, he wrapped his arms around her and held her gently. She buried her face in his chest, body shaking as the tears came. _Just wait,_ Merlin advised himself. _It's probably best to let her cry herself out._ He suited actions to words, stroking Gianna's hair and holding her firmly but saying nothing.

In time the sobs faded and the trembling of her slender frame subsided. When she stirred, drying her tears with both sleeves, Merlin released her and stepped back, leaning down to look into her eyes.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Y-yes." She sighed and gave her face one last scrub with a damp sleeve.

"Gianna, why didn't you call for help?" Merlin asked gently. _I was right on the other side of that wall._

"The innkeeper likes Greeley's money. He and his friends come in a lot. So we've been told to avoid offending them." She paused, drew in a deep breath. "I was so scared…" She shivered, and Merlin reached out to rub her back soothingly. "I couldn't quite think straight, and all I could think was that the innkeeper would be mad if I made a fuss. To be fair, I don't think he knew Greeley would go so far."

"It's still not right."

"Maybe not." A small wisp of a smile crossed her face. "I don't think he'll be a problem again, thanks to you. Greeley's a coward in most ways. You scared the living daylights out of him. He's probably still running."

"That's what I was hoping. I can't actually cast a spell like that - have no idea how to do it - but he doesn't know that." As Merlin replied, something occurred to him, and he added, "But if you wouldn't mind, please don't mention my magic to Arthur or Leon. Gwaine knows, but the others don't."

Her eyes were puzzled. "Why not?"

Merlin paused to consider his answer, and her puzzlement turned to curiosity. "In my homeland, sorcerers - mages - work in secret. People think we're evil, so the law says that all magic is illegal."

"But that's ridiculous! Mages help people!"

"I know that and you know that. And thanks to Broderick, I think Arthur has learned that. So one day, perhaps that law will be changed. But for now, please, can I trust you?"

"Of course. I won't tell anyone." Suddenly Gianna's eyes widened. "Wait. Does Uncle Broderick know?" At Merlin's nod, she continued. "Oh, good. I want to tell him what you've done. He's been worried about me, with Greeley being so, well, you know, pushy. He'll be glad to know that you ran Greeley off."

She tilted her face up to meet his eyes. "I've got to get back downstairs. But Merlin, thank you. You're a love, and if you hadn't come along, and scared off Greeley…I think it could have gone badly. Thank you." She squeezed his arm and then disappeared down the stairs, leaving Merlin alone and thoughtful in the dim hallway.

-o-o-o-o-o-

A foray to the kitchen produced a warming brick that had accidentally been left on the hearth. Armed with the hot brick, wrapped in a towel by an obliging cook, he dashed back upstairs to check on Arthur. The prince was still asleep.

He placed the brick against Arthur's belly, thinking that the warmth near his core would warm him best, and tucked the blankets back around him. He was easing away when the prince mumbled something.

"What was that, Sire?"

"Not desperate for anything, Merlin. Least of all my father's approval."

 _Oh._ That was another of those things that they never, ever talked about. Arthur knew it. Merlin knew it. Arthur preferred to think that Merlin didn't know. They were both more comfortable that way. That cat, however, was very thoroughly out of the bag.

"Whyever not?" Merlin asked quietly. "If I had one, I would be."

There was no response. Arthur had fallen back to sleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Arthur slept through the rest of the evening and then through the night. Each time Merlin checked on him, his color looked a bit better and his skin was a little less cool. _Recovering._ By the time he woke in the morning, the prince seemed to be back to his healthy, arrogant self, to Merlin's mixed relief and irritation.

"Where is my breakfast, Merlin?" he demanded.

"I'll get it, Sire." He headed toward the door, firmly suppressing the urge to tell the prat it was downstairs in the kitchen, but paused as the prince continued.

"One would think that by this time you would know that my breakfast should be here when I awaken. Is that so difficult?"

"Well, if you could do me the favor of awakening at the same time every day it wouldn't be." He grinned impishly. "Is that so difficult?"

Arthur cast about for something to throw as Merlin made his escape to see about breakfast.

-o-o-o-o-o-

It was only an hour or so later that Broderick arrived at the inn with a pleased expression and a lumpy sack in his arms. He was immediately intercepted by Gianna. As Merlin watched, they spoke quietly. Broderick reached out to give her shoulder a quick squeeze. At the end of their conversation, Gianna returned to her work and Broderick raised his head to meet Merlin's eyes. Merlin heard the mage's voice in his head.

 _Thank you, Merlin. I am in your debt._ With the words came a brief welling of emotion - Merlin could actually feel Broderick's gratitude and relief, and his love for his niece. The sensation was a strange one, reminiscent of the spirit realm without the biting cold.

He replied silently to Broderick, _Not at all. Nobody deserves to be bothered by the likes of that scum._

Merlin returned his attention to his surroundings. Arthur, after eating and dressing, had taken over a corner of the common room. He was now ensconced in a chair and the center of a great deal of attention. The minor nobility and the merchants in town had begun hear about the visiting prince from Camelot, and some of them had "dropped by" to introduce themselves, hoping to ingratiate themselves with Arthur. Seeing Broderick, Arthur adroitly cleared the impromptu court that had formed and gestured for the mage to join them. Leon and Gwaine, who had been playing guard, seated themselves.

"I have news from Emily," Broderick announced with a smile, sliding into a chair and settling the sack on the table before to him. "Her exact words were, "Tell the prince, 'You are invited to the palace this afternoon to meet with their majesties. Make preparations and have your companions bring your things; we believe we can get you most of the way home.' I am instructed to bring you up to the palace at two hours after noon."

"Also, I have some things for each of you," the mage continued. He reached into the sack and pulled out three long wooden items. Merlin laughed. They were magical torches. The magical torch Gwaine had found in the cavern had once again been left behind, this time in the confusion at the end of the battle in the cavern. These would have appeared to be ordinary torches, except that the business end of each torch had been covered with a sort of leather hood. Surely enough, Broderick tugged the hood off one of the torches, and flames burst out.

Leon started, prompting Gwaine to elbow him in the ribs and grin. "As if you've never seen a magic torch before!"

"The flame looks real," Broderick explained, "but it won't light anything on fire." He reversed the torch and held it against the oaken table to demonstrate, then continued. "The hoods are spell-dampening cauls. Don't lose them! You mentioned that magic is - ah - shall we say, uncommon, in your land. Folk might be a bit wary of torches that can't be quenched." He handed the torches to Merlin, Gwaine, and Leon, all of whom made their thanks, Leon with an air of mild trepidation.

"And for you, Sire, I made something. I hope you will receive it in the spirit it is intended." He dug in the sack, and this time produced a tiny item. Merlin leaned in to look as Broderick held the object out to the prince.

Dangling from Broderick's hand was a length of fine leather cording from which was hanging a small blue crystal with a simple wire wrapping. Arthur looked from the mage to the crystal. Merlin could see the combination of discomfort and curiosity in his eyes.

"If you encounter mages in your land, I thought that it might help to be able to be sure of them. So. This crystal functions just as the spell I cast on you does. It warns you of deceit. Watch." Broderick laid the crystal in his own palm, where it began to glow gently blue, and said wryly, "I am twenty years old." The crystal flashed with white light for a moment. When it had subsided back to a steady blue glow, Broderick spoke again. "I will be forty next week." The crystal did not react. Broderick lifted it off his palm and the glow died.

"The crystal needs to be in contact with the skin of the person you would test. If it fails to glow, its magic is ineffective for some reason. If it flashes white, a lie is being told. Ask one question at a time, and make the questions very simple."

"It can detect only intentional deceit. So a person who honestly relates what he or she has been told will register as not deceitful, even if the story told to them was false. Still, I believe it could be of great help to you."

Broderick laid the crystal on its cords on the table in front of the king with a murmured, "Use it well, Sire." He folded his hands and waited.

"Thank you, Broderick," the prince replied after a barely perceptible pause. "I don't know yet whether I will use it, but I am grateful that you have given me the option. You are a good man, and truth is a worthy cause."

-o-o-o-o-o-

That afternoon, Broderick again conducted them to the castle. While Arthur met with the King and Queen, with Leon for an honor guard, Emily requested a private meeting with Merlin. She took him to a room filled with books and papers, leaving Gwaine to his own devices in a suite set aside for their use.

"Have you any request of us, Merlin?" she asked. "Some favor we can offer in thanks for your contributions to stopping Brennan?"

Merlin had forgotten that she had asked the question before, and so had given the matter no thought. But now, as the question was being asked again, something occurred to him. What he wanted most, other than to return to visit Gianna, was knowledge. Emily must have seen the hope on his face, and prompted him.

"Do not fear to ask, young Merlin. If you ask too much, I can simply say no. But I do not think you will do so."

"You know so much about magic here, about how it works and what it can do. In my homeland, anyone who knows magic has to hide. There is nobody to learn from, mostly. Is there a book I might have? Or a scroll? Anything that I could learn from?"

Emily smiled. "Hmm." She rose and slowly walked the length of the bookshelves lining the room. Then she turned suddenly and strode back to the desk looking purposeful. "I think what will help you best is my own notes. I have been pushing all the mages to write down what they know, since we have lost too many pieces of knowledge when masters died without fully passing on their knowledge to their apprentices. Since I asked it of them, I could hardly exempt myself."

She organized a thick sheaf of papers covered with tiny script and laid them on a length of oilcloth. Then she picked up second smaller stack of paper and showed it to Merlin. "This is also for you. It is a copy of all the lore we have regarding portals. Their majesties agreed that you needed it. Serena spent most of yesterday and today copying it out from all the sources we could find. Perhaps, with the strength of your gift and the knowledge we have, you may be able to fix your portal."

"You see, the wolf's growling being audible on your side of the portal was a signal that it was failing. When portals fail, they do one of two things. Usually they close and get stuck that way. But a few open and become a permanent "hole". Not a permanent open connection between the two places, but two unconnected holes. Strange things happen near those holes, and strange things are drawn to them. You do not want a portal hole in the castle."

She neatened the stack of papers, and after rolling the whole bundle as tightly as she safely could, she wrapped it in oilcloth and tied it with a bit ribbon. Then she handed it to Merlin.

"Questions?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin wasn't sure how much time he had spent with Emily. He'd learned quite a bit, though. For instance, he had been fascinated to learn that Camelot had been the land from which magic came from, in legend. Mention of legend had caused Emily to look sharply at Merlin for a moment, say his name aloud, and then press her lips together as if deciding whether or not to speak.

"There is another thing you should know," she said. "You and your prince are, I believe, spoken of in a prophecy from one of our great diviners. It predicts that "If Magic's Hawk and the son of Magic's Foe together escape the spirit realm and build on the harmony found there, then may the prince rise and the golden age begin."

The prophecy was running in circles in Merlin's head when he opened the door to the chambers they'd been given while awaiting Arthur's return. The sight that met his eyes made him blink in surprise and then laugh. Gwaine had apparently gotten bored. A glass vase, which Merlin recalled having contained a rainbow of small translucent stones, lay on its side on the table. Gwaine, at the far end of the table, was operating a makeshift catapult constructed from a knife rest, several books, the lacing from his shirt, and a spoon. His remaining river-pebble ammunition was close at hand. Though a few of them had evidently flown true and had landed in the vase, the rest were scattered all over the floor.

"Merlin, duck!" A pebble zoomed by Merlin's head to ping off the door frame. "Want to try this? It works - sometimes." Merlin laughed and joined in the game.

By the time Arthur and Leon returned sometime later they had gone through their supply of ammunition for the second time. Stones were everywhere, and Merlin was lying on the floor trying to retrieve an errant stone that had elected to skid under the wardrobe. The prince surveyed the scene and shook his head. "You two do know that you are picking up each and every stone."

"We have!" Gwaine informed him merrily. "Twice."

Merlin had swept the stone out enough to collect it and, picking himself up from the floor, asked, "What did they decide?"

"I have been given access," the prince said, "to several maps. Copies are being made for me of some of those. We have permission to use the portals, and there is one portal relatively near Camelot." He paused. "We will wait until late tonight to go through, because it leads into, ah, Cenred's basement."

 **Author's note: Sorry for the long delay! I blame germs: two bugs times four members of a family equaled about six weeks of people being sick - sometimes two or three people at a time. But I'm back, and hopefully there will be no further delays. The next chapter will put our boys back on their home continent and trying to sneak out of Cenred's castle - and will NOT take me six weeks to publish!**


	11. Chapter 11 - Cells

**There's a portal home - sort of. Unfortunately, it lets out deep in the basement levels of King Cenred's castle. So Arthur must lead his party quickly and quietly out. Plans are afoot.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 11 – Cells

There were preparations to make, and of course, they were mostly Merlin's job. Assuming they could sneak out of Cenred's castle, they would need provisions for the journey home; food and water, to begin with. So Merlin was ordered to start with a trip to the kitchens. Word must have been sent down, though, for the work was nearly done when Merlin arrived. Journey food had already been gathered, enough to feed the four of them for several days. Perhaps, if all went smoothly, it might be enough to get them back to Camelot. Water skins were being filled even as Merlin arrived.

"Now, you'll need packs, to carry all this," commented the astonishingly burly cook, rubbing his bebristled chin, "and I haven't anything suitable down here. But somebody is working on that - whatever they find will be brought up to your rooms." The cook snagged a couple of kitchen boys, and ordered them, "Take these things up to the visiting prince's suite." He turned his attention back to Merlin. "We have food well in hand. You, Emily says, are to bring your medical kit to the healer. He's waiting for you."

With only minor difficulties, Merlin found the healer's rooms. The healer, with a faint air of avarice, dug through the medical kit. His eyes lit up at the sight of Gaius' neat packages of dried herbs, and he practically drooled over Gaius' big green jar of salve, sniffing it and scooping a little onto a fingertip. Then he sighed, and placed it back in the satchel. Setting to work, he added several rolls of bandaging, and a pillow-shaped item the length of Merlin's hand. "It can be used as a hot compress, young man," he explained. "It's full of dried peas. I'm also putting in some additional packets of dried herbs. You'll need to know which ones are which and how to use them. These," and he held up three packets, "are a fast acting sedative if mixed with a little alcohol. Did the kitchens give you any wine? No? I'll have them send some up. These other ones, if burned, produce a smoke that stings the eyes and makes it hard to see. It does no permanent harm, but be careful with it - I can tell you it's not a fun experience. Still, it may help you get out of sticky situations."

When the healer was satisfied that the medical kit was in readiness and that Merlin knew what he needed to use each of the new additions, he gave Gaius' salve one last longing look, closed the satchel, and handed it back to Merlin. "To housekeeping now. Down that corridor and up a floor, second door on your right."

Housekeeping was buzzing with maids coming and going. A woman saw Merlin arrive, directed him to a walk-in closet, and said briefly, "Take what you need." With that she hurried away. Merlin scanned the shelves and it became clear what he'd been sent here for. Blankets were stacked on the shelves - light ones and heavy ones, smooth ones and fuzzy ones. Merlin was easily able to make up four bedrolls that would be warm enough for a cool summer night but light in weight and easily compressed. When he emerged with his arms full of bedrolls, there was a servant boy waiting for him.

"The visiting prince requires your presence, sir," the lad explained. "He is up in the map room. May I guide you there?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the map room, Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, and Emily were poring over a hand-drawn map. "The layout of Cenred's castle," Gwaine said, nodding toward the map.

"Cenred's castle _as of 200 years ago_ ," amended Emily. "Keep that in mind." She raised both eyebrows meaningfully at Gwaine.

"I stand corrected, milady Mage," he responded cheerfully. He opened his mouth to add who knew what, but Arthur overrode him.

"According the the map, we will come out in a chamber much like the one under the Tor. This first tunnel, then one turn here, takes us up and east into what used to be the dungeons. Probably those are guarded against prisoners escaping, so this may be the most difficult part of the whole thing. We will need to take out any guards quietly, and hide them in some way so that they cannot spread the alarm. Merlin, I am told you may have means to do that?

Merlin nearly panicked, thinking that the prince was referring to magic. He stared at Arthur in shock for a moment. Then he realized that the prince must have been informed of the herb packets given to him by the healer. "Oh. The sedative herbs the healer gave me would keep them out for a while. And he gave me a way to make it hard for them to see, which might make them easier to take down."

"Very well." The prince turned back to Emily. "The nearest outer door I see here is - ah. Are these stairs?"

"Yes. And these."

"So up two levels?"

"Provided nothing has changed, been rebuilt, and so on, yes."

"We'll need to be prepared to change our plans, I know. But making a plan is a good way to begin, even if the plan has to be flexible."

"Then I believe you have a plan with which to begin."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Packs had arrived, along with several other unasked-for items for which Merlin was very grateful. There were oiled leather covers for the packs and a heavy canvas ground cloth, both of which could be used in a pinch to shelter one from the rain. A lightweight cookpot had been provided,with its own folding tripod for cooking on. The last item, a bundle of cloth, unwrapped, turned out to be several washcloths wrapped around a cake of hard soap.

Merlin had been loading the packs with the supplies when Gwaine, poking through curiously, had found the wine skin. He'd opened it, sniffed, then sampled. His eyebrows climbed. "Nice stuff." He handed the skin back to Merlin to stow. "Now we're ready."

Packing complete, the companions, on Emily's advice, had taken what rest they could until time to leave.

In the wee hours of the morning, Merlin was awakened by a soft tapping on the door. When he opened it, Emily was waiting outside. "It's time," she said quietly.

Soon the party was gathered in the hallway awaiting Emily's directions. She took them down several levels of the castle, and in a short time they had entered the tunnels below the palace, all hewn from gritty tan stone. The last tunnel ended in a double door guarded by four men, with a huge timber crossbar laid in heavy metal brackets.

Seeing Emily, three of the men set down their weapons, and heaved the cross bar up and away, leaning it against the wall as the fourth called something through the door. Merlin noticed a large bell hanging from the ceiling nearby. _Ah_ , thought Merlin, _an alarm bell. A way to alert the castle if something is trying to come through that door._ The soldiers pushed the door open, aided by additional guards from the other side. As the interior guards moved away to make room for Emily and her party, Merlin had his first glimpse of the portal room. It was a large room, big enough to accommodate quite a crowd of travelers, baggage and all. At the far end stood the portal.

"Your way home, Sire," Emily stated, gesturing to the portal. "I wish that we could make the rest of your journey simpler, but there it is."

As the rest of the group made their goodbyes to Emily, she spoke to Merlin silently. _Goodbye, Magic's Hawk. I wish you well, and hope that we will meet again._

She walked up and touched a rune. As she backed off to the side, the symbols began to glow and a familiar wind picked up. When the circle of emptiness opened, Merlin followed Arthur, Leon, and Gwaine through the portal. This time, knowing what to expect and having not been tackled by Gwaine, he arrived on the other side upright but in total and impenetrable darkness. Merlin experienced a moment of panic. _How can such complete darkness be possible?_ He raised a hand and waved it before his face, but could not detect it. It was as if he had been struck blind. Then a torch blazed to life to his left, revealing Gwaine's face clearly, and ahead of them, Arthur and Leon. All were accounted for.

Arthur gestured for silence, looked around to orient himself, and pointed toward what according to the map should be a passageway leading directly away from the portal. He strode in that direction, beckoning Merlin who was unlimbering his own torch, but was brought up short where the room narrowed into a passageway. There was a heavy iron grated door set into the passage, barring their way.

Arthur gripped the bars and pushed outward, trying to open the door quietly. It didn't move. He pushed harder, muscles bunching. Still the door refused to budge. "Locked," he whispered.

"Arthur," called Leon very softly. "You should see this."

Whatever it was that Leon wanted Arthur to see, Merlin blessed him for it. He turned to watch as Arthur went to join Leon and Gwaine. They were crouched over a mouldering pile of cloth and bone that evidently was once a prisoner. The portal room had clearly been used as a cell, and some poor soul had been left to rot.

Satisfied that the prince was distracted for the moment, Merlin looked back at the lock. Trying to time the words with the conversation behind him, he quietly spoke the spell that opened locks. There was a tiny grating squeak from the lock, and Merlin gave the door several jiggles in the wrong direction then pressed in the correct direction. The hinges produced a louder squeak of their own, and the door swung ajar.

Arthur spun around to look. "How did you get that open?" he asked in amazement.

"It wasn't locked," responded Merlin impishly. "It was only stuck. I just jiggled it a bit here, and it came open."

Arthur stared at him skeptically, shifted his gaze to the door, and then looked back at Merlin. Then he shook his head, and beckoned to the others. "Let's proceed."

They moved quietly down the stone passageway. The flickering light of the torches reflected off roughly cut craggy gray stone. At intervals passages opened out to either side, each one plugged with a cell door. After a time, hewn stone changed to stacked stone block - the wall of the castle itself. Not long after that, they came to the cells.

Merlin had been uncomfortable with the idea of passing through Cenred's dungeons and leaving prisoners behind, but Arthur had pointed out that while some of them were undoubtedly innocent, not all would be. Was he to hold court in the dungeons to determine each person's guilt or innocence? There was nothing for it. They would pass through as quietly as possible, hoping not to be noticed. As they passed the first of the cells, however, this plan became impossible.

"Leon?" came a shaky voice from the darkness in the cell. "Oh, gods, Leon, is that you?" Leon stopped as if he had struck a wall.

"Mari?"

Rustling in the cell heralded an old woman hastening forward. She reached trembling hand out between the bars, and Leon, shaking off his shock, quickly approached the cell and gently gathered her hand into both of his own.

"Mari, how in the world…" As he spoke, others stirred in the cell. When they came to the bars and could be seen in the flickering light of the torches, Merlin could see three elderly women, including Mari, and two younger women, one of whom was holding an infant of perhaps five or six months of age. A babble of voices erupted, until from another cell, a deeper voice spoke sharply.

"Quietly! You'll draw the guards…" And surely enough, when the cells went suddenly silent everyone could hear the grate of a key at the far end of the block of cells.

"Retreat. Douse the torches. Hurry." Arthur ordered in a whisper, grabbing Leon and Gwaine who were closest and shoving them in the proper direction. "Merlin, move."

They scrambled back into the tunnels, covering the torches just in time as the door creaked open. Merlin could hear a new voice, this one male and young, and see a widening beam of light pierce the length of corridor from the door to the end of the cell block.

"Be quiet in there! Or you'll regret it."

The prisoners made no response, and after a moment of silence, the guard stepped back and closed the door behind him. The key turned again, and all was still.

This time, when Arthur and his party came forward, everyone kept their voices to a whisper. A quick glance at the door reassured Merlin that their lights would not be seen. There was no window in the door, and though there was a fairly large gap below it, the generous quantity of light spilling though it from the other side ensured that their own feeble torchlight would not be noticed.

A quick conversation between Arthur, Leon, and Mari established that there were twelve prisoners in this cell block. All were citizens of Camelot, arrested for not paying taxes, though their lands weren't Cenred's to begin with. None of them knew why Cenred had bothered to imprison them or feed them, though the theory among the villagers was that Cenred intended to ransom them back to Uther. _Doubtful,_ thought Merlin privately. _Uther won't give up a single coin for villagers, and Cenred knows it._ In any case, it didn't matter. They now had twelve additional souls to sneak out of the castle. Scanning the faces in the other cells, Merlin saw two old men, three younger ones, and a boy of about ten years of age, in addition to the women and the baby.

Merlin slipped quietly to the door of the cell block and pressed his ear against the heavy wood. Through it, he could hear voices of at least three men. Their tone sounded casual, relaxed - that of men whiling away the boring hours of night watch with friendly conversation. Merlin rejoined the group and related what he'd heard. Quickly, a plan was made.

-o-o-o-o-o-

All was in readiness. At Arthur's signal, the last torch was hooded, causing blackness to rush in. On cue, male voices rose in argument from one of the cells.

"Because it's _your_ fault we're here!"

"My fault? Mine? Say that again, you…" Loud thuds were heard as heavy bodies bounced off the iron bars. Curses turned the air blue.

"Don't hurt him! Stop it!" the boy shouted. "Guards, please help! He's going to kill my father!"

 _That child has a future as an actor_ , thought Merlin in amusement. _He made that sound absolutely desperate_.

A scraping of chair legs and then the grate of a key in the lock heralded the arrival of a guard, who entered the cell block already shouting at the prisoners. He was entirely unaware of Gwaine until the young man pounced, slamming him into the bars of the men's cell. Light flooded the cell block as the torches were unhooded. Arthur pushed the door the rest of the way open and dashed through it with Leon and Merlin close behind. They shot out into what turned out to be a guardroom, nearly into the laps of three guards still seated around a rough wooden table.

The two closest guards stood little chance. Hampered by their seated positions and by the bulk of the table, they were taken down very quickly. The third, seated across the table, had enough time to rise from his seat. He turned away. At first, Merlin thought he intended to flee, but then the man's intentions became clear. He was heading for a gong hung on the wall. If he got there, the castle would be alerted and escape would become far more difficult.

Not for the first time, Merlin cursed the necessity to hide his magic. He'd been spoiled in Cynonnen, he realized. There had been mages all over the place. He'd been free to use magic whenever he needed to, with only the need to be sure Arthur didn't actually see him doing it. But now, here, any obvious magic would alert the prince to the likely presence of Emrys. He grabbed a chair and threw it hard in the direction of the remaining guard. Timing the spell carefully, he used magic silently to smash the guard into the wall. The effect was reasonably convincing, in Merlin's opinion. The guard, hit by the chair, appeared to have lost his balance and crashed into the wall. His head bounced off the stone, and he sank to the floor and was still. Merlin looked around the guardroom, as Leon and Arthur did the same. Looking, listening. Silence. They waited. Nothing.

The first stage of their plan was complete. The dungeon was taken.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Keys had been found on the belt of a guard and used to open the doors of the cells. The guards had been quickly stripped of their tabards, and stuffed into cells. After being drugged with the sedative Merlin had been given in Cynonnen, and in one case, bandaged so that he wouldn't bleed too much before being found, they'd been bound and gagged. Merlin, Leon, Gwaine, and Arthur were wearing the stolen tabards. The prisoners had nothing to bring with them, and were ready to go immediately. Leon paused. He looked from the baby to Merlin.

"Merlin," he asked quietly, "would the sedative you have in the wine be safe for the baby?"

"What? Oh. Yes, Gaius uses the same sedatives for babies as for adults - just smaller doses. I think I can modify the dosage. You're thinking that the baby might cry at the wrong time and get us in trouble?"

Leon nodded, then went to the young woman holding the sleeping baby.

"What's the baby's name?" he asked the mother.

"Her name...oh. She's Leah."

"Babies cry," Leon continued, with the air of one who had experience with such a thing. "I hesitate to suggest it, but if Leah wakes and cries at the wrong time we may all die. Merlin there is apprenticed to the royal physician. He could administer a safe dose of sedative, so that Leah would sleep until we are out of the castle. It would make all of us safer."

The young mother paused, thinking it over, and Mari broke in.

"It's safe enough, child, and could save our lives. Let him do it."

The mother nodded permission, and Leon beckoned to Merlin. "This is Merlin. And your name is?"

"Melody."

"Melody, your baby is in good hands."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once little Leah was dosed, she had quickly fallen back to sleep, and the group had set out. The hallways were entirely quiet, most of the castle being asleep. They even passed by the kitchens without attracting any attention. Merlin was sure that Arthur didn't know how lucky that was. The kitchens in a castle were rarely completely quiet. By the time the dishes were washed from the last meal served at night, it was nearly time to begin preparations for the making the day's bread. This was especially true if one were expected to serve fresh bread for breakfast. Though there was activity in the kitchen as they went by, evidently nobody was inquisitive enough to look out to see who was going by.

Their luck continued all the way through the castle, and even out through the barred side door that let out into the cool night air of a deserted garden. However, this still left the outer gates. These would most certainly be guarded. Leaving the former prisoners hiding in the garden, guarded by Leon and Gwaine, Arthur took Merlin with him and scouted the walls, looking for gates and making note of the locations of guards and lookouts.

By the time they turned around to rejoin the party, it had become clear that quite a bit had changed, and the news was not good. The postern gate shown on Emily's map no longer existed. There was only one gate. That gate had four guards that Merlin and Arthur could see, plus two lookouts posted on top of the walls. The guards seemed to be dismayingly alert, though at least their attention was focused outwards rather than inwards. Also unfortunately, the area both inside and outside the main gate was well lit, with torches burning at regular intervals leading up to and out of the gatehouse, and a fire was burning in a fire pit in the courtyard inside the gate. Merlin began mulling over how to get everyone out undetected.

When Arthur and Merlin returned to the group and related what they had found out, there was a silence. Merlin, having had an idea, broke it with the suggestion, "Why don't we just walk out the front gate?"

 **Author's notes: Major thanks to Trekmel, who got me unstuck on multiple occasions during the writing of this chapter. Without her, Arthur would still be stuck behind a certain locked door! Many of the best ideas are hers – the mistakes are all mine!**

 **Thanks also to Gingeraffealene, smuffly, trekmel, Coyachayqui, mersan123, Walker's Annoying Voice, , Mizzymel and a guest for your wonderful reviews over the last few chapters. You keep me going!**


	12. Chapter 12 - Escape

**Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, and Merlin have led the prisoners out of the building successfully, but the outer gate still remains. Soldiers on the gate are wide awake and vigilant, but Merlin has a plan.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 12 – Escape

When Merlin had first explained exactly what he meant by "...just walk out the front gate," Arthur had been opposed. Still, after an involved discussion that covered every option from killing guards to climbing walls, the plan that was settled on was similar to the idea that had been turning itself around in Merlin's head. And for that reason, Merlin was walking up to the guards at the gate, feeling the press of three pairs of friendly eyes from the shadows. He shifted the wine skin in his hands, refilled with wine that Gwaine had filched from the kitchen and Merlin had laced with sedative.

When he got within hailing distance, he arranged his face into the most inoffensively clueless expression he could manage and greeted the two closest guards, making a fast visual inspection of the two as he did so. Did either of them have some kind of distinctive feature or marking? Indeed, the youngest guard had a scar that ran in a straight line down his left cheek. _Perfect. I can use that, if he asks._

He spoke to the young one. "Got sumthin' for ya. From your friend in the kitchens. Said ya could probably use a warm up, it bein' a bit cool t'night an all." _Luckily it's pretty easy to heat water with magic, as long as you can get away from Prince Prat to do it. Works for wine too._

"My friend?"

"Yeah, ya know… The one… oh, she tol' me her name but I forgot. Ya know, the one with the…" He gestured generously in front of his chest, mentally crossing his fingers. _Hopefully he knows some girl in the kitchen._

The man looked puzzled for a moment, then his expression cleared. "Oh, I bet you mean Eliza. Hey, you let Eliza be, you hear?"

"Yeah, sure, 'course. Just couldn't remember her name. I'm new. Anyway, she sent this up for ya, and enough for ya all t' share so's nobuddy gets in trouble."

"Right nice of her. Wait, how do you know it's for me?"

"Well, she tol' me y'r name but I forgot. But she said ya had that," Merlin traced a line down his own cheek with his forefinger, "an' that ya were on guard duty in front. Gotta be you, right?"

He extended the wine skin to the man, who automatically reached to take it. "G'night, fellas. This was m' last errand; I'm gonna go crash." Turning away, he headed determinedly toward the side door from which he'd purportedly come, choosing his course to disappear into the shadows as quickly as possible.

Once out of sight, Merlin changed course and crept up to watch with his companions, who were hiding in the shadows behind the nearest corner of the building. Gwaine handed him the stolen tabard he'd taken off to play kitchen boy, and he shrugged back into it.

The four nearby guards, after some discussion, began passing the skin around. The two men up on the walls, seeing the gathering below them, became curious enough to come down and were invited to partake. Soon, with six men sharing it, the skin was drained. With barely audible complaints, the guards returned to their stations. As they did so, Merlin was heartened by what he saw. They were no longer alert, but yawning and rubbing their eyes. As the minutes passed they became drowsier and drowsier. In the time it took for Leon to be sent to summon the former prisoners and return, two men had succumbed to sleep, one sitting by the fire pit and the other having slid down the wall to lean against it, snoring softly. This left two men barely awake at the gate level. Up on the wall, one of the two lookouts could not be seen. _Hopefully he's out._ The other was still upright and facing outward, but he seemed to be listing slightly.

After a few more minutes, during which no more men fell asleep, Arthur apparently decided that it was time. He motioned to Gwaine, and as Leon and Merlin dropped to the back of the group, the prisoners arranged themselves in a rough cluster, clearly trying to look cowed and tired rather than excited and nervous. They moved as quietly as they could along the front of the building, and then stepped briskly out into the light. Merlin could not see well from his position at the back of the group, but he could hear clearly the sleepy voice of a guard challenging Arthur.

"What are you doing-" he yawned, "-leaving this late? I had no notice of - prisoners, is it? - being moved tonight."

Gwaine responded before Arthur could. "Yeah, well, Himself wanted to get rid of them quietly, I think. We're to deliver them to a buyer just outside town."

Another voice spoke with a question probably directed at the first guard. It sounded like the young man Merlin had spoken with earlier. "Want me to wake the watch captain, Lanner?"

"On your head be it," responded the irrepressible Gwaine. "I wouldn't want to be the one explaining to him why he's being awakened in the middle of the night just 'cause somebody's leaving to make a delivery."

While the guard considered this excruciatingly slowly, Merlin shifted so that he could see better. _Don't forget to keep out of sight for now,_ he reminded himself. _They've seen me already and think I'm a kitchen boy._ He drifted forward along the column, always keeping at least one "prisoner" between him and the two awake guards. After a few moments, Lanner, the first guard, decided, "Sorry, lad, better to wake him. Go on."

The young guard walked toward the front doors, and Gwaine said to Arthur with a manic glitter, "Move them up, why don't you? We'll need to be on our way as soon as the watch captain gives the order." Arthur had turned away from Lanner enough to pin Gwaine with a glare that should have killed him on the spot, but Gwaine only grinned. Leon began ordering the prisoners to move forward, and Merlin moved with the group. He was fairly sure he knew what Gwaine was up to. When Gwaine engaged the guard in conversation and shifted subtly until the man was facing the castle, and Gwaine could watch the proceedings out of the corner of his eye, Merlin was sure of it. He was trying to get Leon and Arthur close to the gate so they could quietly lift the bar.

Arthur must have come to the same conclusion, for he beckoned to Leon and shifted quietly through the milling "prisoners" to the bar. Two of the men, seeing what the prince and the knight were doing, did the same. Merlin moved out of the way and turned to check on Gwaine. He had the guard laughing and nodding. _Going well, then._ Merlin turned back to see that the heavy bar was quietly clearing the brackets. Arthur grounded one end and, with Leon's help, tipped it silently up to lean against wall. He pointed to Leon and the two men and made a pushing motion then a 'wait' motion. He met Merlin's eyes and jerked his head toward Gwaine. Merlin translated. _Push the gate open on my command_ and _Merlin, get Gwaine._ As Arthur raised three fingers, and mouthed, "Three," Merlin slipped quickly to the back of the party, waving to get Gwaine's attention. He succeeded, but the guard turned around as well.

Lanner's mouth opened in surprise. "Wait, aren't you the lad from the kitchen?" It was all he had time to say before Gwaine's, "Sorry, friend," coincided with the hilt of Gwaine's sword impacting the back of his head. He crumpled silently, to be caught by Merlin and Gwaine as the gate began swinging open. It must have been well oiled, for it opened with only the barest minimum of metallic complaints. _That's good. Maybe if we are very lucky, it didn't wake the lookouts?_

Hastily Merlin and Gwaine dragged Lanner to his guard post and leaned him in a seated position against the wall there, as the "prisoners" poured out through the opening gate. As Merlin followed them through opening, he realized that the road led through a town, much like in Camelot. Small buildings - shops and the like - crowded the road on both sides, disappearing into darkness beyond the reach of the four torches that bracketed the gate area. It was then that it occurred to Merlin that having the bar back in place after they left would be a good thing. He looked ahead. The prince was talking urgently to Leon, and gesturing down the road.

"Gwaine," he said quickly, "Hurry, let's get the gates closed." He threw his weight against the gate and, as Gwaine came to lend a hand, continued, "As soon as we get this closed, go join the others. If Arthur comes back this way, distract him. Keep him away from me. I'm going to try to lift the bar back into place and then I'll catch up."

As soon as the gate was shut, Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder and shot off in the direction of the receding group. Arthur had turned to come back, but seeing the gate safely closed, stopped and waited for Gwaine. Satisfied that Arthur was safely out of the way, Merlin turned back to the gate. If he scrunched over far enough, he could see the bar leaning against the wall. That would help. It was heavy; that was the only problem. Merlin looked upwards. The lookout that had been standing couldn't be seen from where Merlin stood. Either he was standing back a bit from the edge, or he'd succumbed to sleep. In either case, that would work. Merlin extended his senses toward the bar and spoke the spell. It was, perhaps, the heaviest thing he'd ever tried to move with control. _It's funny. I could smash this thing across the courtyard with almost no effort, and no spell. But this is hard._ Slowly the bar lifted clear of the ground, then rotated in midair until it was horizontal. Merlin could feel the tug of effort, but set himself and continued pouring energy into the spell. The bar floated toward the gate, lining up with the brackets. Downward, slowly. Slowly. The weight dragged on Merlin, and his grip slipped. The bar fell the last few inches into the brackets with a resounding thud and ringing of metal. Wincing, Merlin darted into the shadows and waited, listening.

Nobody came to investigate the sound at first. Then, just as Merlin was about to slip away, there was the sound of the front door opening. Footsteps approached the gate and a surly, sleepy young voice spoke. "Captain says let them go. And you can guess what he called me for waking him up. Lanner, did you hear me?" There was a pause and a soft clank of jostled armor. "Oh well. Gods, I'm tired. Gonna just sit a minute."

Merlin refrained from doing a victory dance and instead shot away up the street to catch up with the rest of the group.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The main street of town had, as expected, led directly from the gates of the castle to the gates of the town. It took several nerve-racking minutes to reach the gates. Here, however, their passage was ridiculously easy. There were only two guards, who, seeing the tabards of the castle guard, opened the gates for them with no questions asked.

Merlin released a sigh of relief as the gates closed behind them and they proceeded into the night. He knew that they were not out of danger yet, but for the first time since they'd come through the portal, he had a moment to simply enjoy his surroundings. The air was pleasantly cool, though when the breezes kicked up Merlin was glad of the long sleeves of his new tunic. The moon, just past full, was pouring light down from a clear starlit sky. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the lack of torches, he could see houses near the road. Behind them, small farm fields, with the wheat standing high, climbed the hills. Cows, drowsing along the hedgerows and piled stone walls, flopped their ears when disturbed and then studiously ignored the travelers. Tiny rustlings in the bushes that skittered away as they passed proclaimed the presence of night creatures. The former prisoners were talking quietly among themselves as they walked, exchanging surreptitious hugs and handshakes, perhaps having been warned by Arthur to maintain the pretense of being prisoners until they were out of sight of the castle and the gate guards.

Once they were well out of sight of Cenred's capital, Arthur led the group off the road into a field. They took shelter behind a copse of trees, and after assigning Leon to maintain watch, the prince took a seat on a boulder and invited the folk to join him.

"We're not safe yet," Arthur began. "But in order to make decisions about what to do now, we need to exchange information. Merlin, you stayed back to listen for bit. Did you hear anything? Were they preparing to pursue?"

Merlin grinned. _So that's what Gwaine told him I was doing._ He related what he had heard from the young soldier.

"So probably we have until shift change." Arthur looked at the former prisoners. "Do any of you have an idea of what time the guards changed?"

The men and women looked at one another, then heads shook. Nobody seemed to know. Mari spoke. "It was always dark, Sire, and after only a few hours, we could not even be sure how long we had been there. I'm sorry."

"We'll stay on the road until dawn then. Merlin, while we finish here, please distribute some of what food we have. Ration what we have to last at least a day. Hopefully by then we can find a way to get more." He turned back to the people.

"Now I would like to hear who you are, and how you came to be in Cenred's dungeons."

It turned out that fully half of the group consisted of Mari's extended family, and the other half were fellow villagers known to her. Her husband, her son Ben and his wife Melody, and five of her grandchildren had been in Ben's home in the village of Breckfall when the soldiers had arrived, and had been invaded first. Melody had been able to slip three of the girls out the back window, with orders to hide in the forest until the soldiers left then find the nearest familiar adult. Her son Bard had outright refused to go, Melody explained, giving the boy an admonishing look. Bard looked rebellious.

Arthur looked at the boy sternly. "While we are on the road together, young Bard, I expect that you will follow the orders of your prince - and your mother - without question. Do I have your word?"

Bard nodded, dropping his gaze to his feet.

"That won't do, young man. I will have your word on the matter."

"I give m' word, Sire. I will follow your orders. And Mother's."

"Good man."

Releasing the boy from his gaze, he turned to receive Mari's introductions of the rest of the group, consisting of two other families of adults caught out in the fields or in their homes when the soldiers arrived. All had family left behind back in Breckfall and were desperate to find out their fate.

"Tell me where your village is." It took a great deal of discussion to discover this, but several questions and answers later, it was eventually decided that Arthur where the village was and how to get there - and that it was indeed in lands ruled by Camelot.

Having a destination in mind, plans were made. The group would follow the road until dawn, then strike out across country. They had enough food for a day; perhaps enough to reach Breckfall if all went well.

In the moonlight, the group returned to the road and continued their journey as clouds slowly filtered in and the night darkened.

 **Author's note: They've been very lucky so far with the weather. That's about to change...**


	13. Chapter 13 - Rain

**Merlin and his companions have successfully escaped from Cenred's castle with twelve souls from his dungeon, and are heading toward Breckfall, the village from which the former prisoners hailed.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 13 – Rain

For two hours Arthur led the party at a brisk pace along the road. During that time, the sky slowly clouded over and a cool misty rain began to fall. There was little to be done save continue on as the mist became a drizzle and then strengthened into a steady downpour. Dawn came late through the clouds, but when there was enough light in the sky that travel through the woods became possible, the prince directed the group off the now muddy road through the even muddier fields.

 _We're lucky it's summer_ , thought Merlin. _We'd be freezing instead of just a little bit chilly._ Still, he pulled the woolen blanket out of his bedroll and worked his way back through the group to offer it to Melody and her baby. Little Leah, now awake and alert in her mother's arms, greeted him with a solemn but curious stare. When he smiled into those big grey eyes, her jubilant response charmed him, for Leah had an infectious smile that lit up her tiny face. Melody smiled at her daughter's delight, but waved away the offer of the blanket. The pair was wrapped in somebody's cloak - Leon's, Merlin realized. The knight had beaten him to it. Satisfied that mother and baby were well cared for, Merlin resumed the march.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The travelers passed through the fields into the forested hills beyond. The fringes of the forest had been thoroughly picked over for firewood, so the underbrush was sparse and the way was clear, if steep. The footing, however, could only be described as treacherous. Patches of mud alternated with slimy-wet roots and unforgiving rocks. Merlin, who had trouble enough not tripping on flat ground, found himself frequently flailing for balance, and Melody and some of the older folks were struggling. It wasn't until Merlin offered to take a turn carrying Leah that he realized exactly why Melody was having difficulty. The baby didn't weigh a great deal, but her small weight did throw his balance off, and having one arm unavailable for assisting his balance didn't help either. From that point on, Merlin saw to it that everyone able-bodied took turns carrying Leah. He even managed to badger Arthur into taking a turn, and though the prince pretended to be unmoved whenever he saw Merlin watching, after a minute or two Leah had him just as wrapped around her tiny finger as everyone else. At one point, Merlin looked over to see Leah contentedly chewing on the tip of the index finger of Arthur's glove - with Arthur's finger still in it.

Merlin grinned. "You're getting bitten."

"I have been bitten by things that have a great many more teeth than this, Merlin." Arthur looked down and met Leah's eyes with a small smile. He addressed the baby. "I don't believe Merlin has ever been bitten by anything. Maybe you should bite him next." She babbled around his glove and reached up to grab for his nose. "Here, Merlin, have a baby." He handed over the little girl, glove and all, and walked away.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Over the next hour or so, it became clear that the pace of the group was slower than Arthur would have hoped. He kept looking back impatiently. _Hopefully he can see they're going as fast as they can_ , thought Merlin. Eventually the prince set Leon the task of leading the group and moved to the back of the column to offer his arm to one of the elderly women who was lagging behind. Gwaine already had a delighted grandmother on his arm who, from what Merlin had overheard, was regaling the young man with the entire history of her family all the way back to the caves. Gwaine looked up, meeting Merlin's eyes for a moment, gaze twinkling with suppressed merriment. Merlin shrugged, grinned wryly, and continued on.

Through the morning and early afternoon they traveled steadily higher and higher through rain that varied between drizzle and downpour. Finally, near mid-afternoon, their path began to lead back downward. According to Leon, they had crossed over the saddle between two mountains. Soon they should find a river, the knight explained, which they'd follow until they found a place it could be forded. Hopefully a few hours travel beyond that should see them at Breckfall.

The group journeyed on, with occasional rest breaks, and indeed, a little while later they reached a river. It was wide and deep, and now also swollen with the rain. Merlin now understood the need - and the difficulty - of finding a fording place. However, Merlin was also aware that as the day progressed their pace was slowing. _We've been walking since well before dawn_ , he realized. _Farmers work long hours, but climbing hills in the mud is strenuous. We'll need to stop and rest for the night at some point, and sooner might be better while we can still see to find a good camp._

Arthur must have had the same idea. He caught up to Leon, and after a brief conversation, the knight altered their course slightly. Soon they had found a flat area with a bit of a clearing in the trees. The villagers, recognizing that a stop was intended, sank gratefully down on whatever surface they could find. Merlin dug through the packs, pulling out the canvas ground cloth.

"We can make a bit of shelter with this," he suggested, holding out the cloth to show the prince. "We've got rope to make supports - if we can get the canvas really tight and we don't touch it, it'll keep the rain off."

Everyone pitched in, and soon they had a roof of sorts and had begun cooking a meal. Merlin had had to clandestinely light the fire, since nothing this wet was going to catch otherwise. Arthur had been thoroughly occupied with stretching the canvas tight and getting it tied off, so Merlin was fairly sure he'd gotten away with it. It was a damp evening, but the feeling of the group was that of tired jubilation. They were on their way home.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin woke up suddenly, feeling as if something were wrong. Rain was pouring down, and the wind had picked up, but that wasn't what was bothering him. Something in him was sounding an alarm. He lay still and listened. The rain shushed and spattered, and the river was gurgling softly. Tiny rustlings and the calls of night creatures could be heard over the watery background noise. He heard nothing alarming. He rolled, as if in his sleep, trying not to roll on anyone, and surveyed the sleeping group as best he could in the near complete darkness. There was no obvious danger. No movement could be seen amid the trees anywhere he could see. As he placed his hands down to push himself up to a sitting position, something felt strange. There was a vibration, a tiny, barely noticeable shaking, so faint he wasn't even entirely sure it was really there. _What in the world?_ As he was puzzling over what this could possibly mean, one of the older men awoke. He spread a palm flat on the ground then looked uphill.

"Oh, no," the man whispered. Then the whisper changed to a shout. "Up! Up! Everyone up! Quickly! Move to higher ground! It's a mudslide. Move! Now! Up!" As he spoke, the old man was shaking the nearest people awake, and shoving them up the hill.

Arthur had rolled to his feet at the first shout, and was yanking people to their feet as they awoke, boosting them up the hill. Leon was doing the same thing. Merlin wasn't even sure he knew what a mudslide was, but based on the old man's reaction, he was absolutely certain they didn't want to be caught in it, and if the old man thought _up_ was the right direction to go, then they should go up. But where was the danger coming from? Even as he grabbed Melody's elbow to steady her as she got to her feet with Leah in her arms, he turned his face away from her and stretched out with his magic, letting it spread out into the earth and sky. It was immediately obvious. A great wave of disruption was approaching from uphill and moving toward the river. It seemed as though it would intersect with the river just slightly upstream of their position and it was huge. _Better to be nowhere near that._ He turned back to Melody, and instructed, "Get as high as you can and move that way," pointing away from the disruption that he could feel coming. "Quickly! And hold tight to Leah."

As he spoke, Merlin began to hear a sound - a hissing and a thudding. The vague shadows of the trees on the hillside upstream suddenly thrashed wildly and then toppled into the river - and suddenly Ben, coming up the hill just behind Gwaine and Bard, was swept into the water. Gwaine staggered as the ground shifted under him, but kept his footing. Bard stopped dead, heedless of the mud liquifying beneath his boots. He turned back to where his father had stood a moment before and stared in horror.

"Father!" he screamed, and turned towards the frothing water, frantically looking for his parent. Ben had found his feet, waist high in the strongly flowing water, and was beginning to work his way back to shore, leaning steeply into the current. He lifted hand and voice to forbid his son to follow him, but unfortunately, it was too late. Bard had jumped, and misjudged his leap. He hit the water too far downstream and, being lighter and not as tall, was immediately swept out of his father's reach and into the churning current.

Ben turned, to try to reach his son in the surging water, but Gwaine shouted, "No! Climb out - the water's moving too fast. Follow on land." Merlin had his eyes glued to the river and was rewarded with a glimpse of a small hand scrabbling for purchase on a floating log. He pointed and Gwaine took off running downstream, with Merlin hot on his heels. They had only gone a short distance when Bard's log caught on a plug of debris. Gwaine plunged into the water, armor and all, stretching out into the current. Moments later he was lifting the sodden and coughing boy out of the water and launching him toward shore. The boy was pulled out by Arthur and Leon, as Ben came sprinting up to gather the boy in his arms and squeeze the remaining breath out of him.

Gwaine was beginning to work his way back toward shore, struggling against the current, when a huge fallen tree rolled by in the water. A snag, Gaius would have called it, long since dead and bare, its rotting roots like black fingers against the dark sky. The roots must have caught on something, perhaps Gwaine's clothing or his armor, for suddenly the young man was being dragged out into the stream. Merlin watched, frozen in surprise, as the snag rolled and dragged his friend under.

Merlin hadn't even seen Arthur arrive when he grabbed Merlin's arm. "Hurry! Watch that tree. And run. Downstream. Get ahead of it." He took off, dragging Merlin along.

Merlin got his feet under him and ran, trying to track the tangle of roots that was rolling downstream. Arthur had one of the torches, Merlin noted. But they needed light out there, over the stream. Already the snag was deeper in the water and difficult to see in the dark. A torch over here didn't help with that, and every second Gwaine was trapped was a second his friend spent drowning.

Desperate, Merlin made a decision. _We need light_ _ **now**_ _\- and_ _ **out there**_ _._ Two balls of blue light shimmered into being a few feet above the surface of the water and zoomed outward, chasing the snag. The sight of the river's surface, lit by Merlin's mage lights, chilled him to the soul. It was chaos. The water swirled and foamed, crowded with forest debris of every size from tiny twigs to massive trunks. And worse, new trunks were popping vertically upward like corks out in the center of the river, bashing others aside and toppling back down into the maelstrom. _Gwaine's out_ _ **in**_ _that!_

The lights had found the snag. It was deeper in the current now, but the river was moving into a bend toward them. _If I can pull it far enough toward shore it'll be out of the main force of the current._

"Emrys!" he heard Arthur gasp. "Merlin, look, the lights. He's helping us."

Merlin had no breath to answer. He was running as fast as he could through the trees, trying to reach the shore ahead of the snag and ahead of Arthur. As soon as he'd pulled a little ahead of the prince, he cast the spell. Drawing power from all around him, he reached into the chaotic current and grasped the tree. It was huge and heavy, and the sheer power of the water moving it was stunning. Merlin stumbled, but righted himself. _Gwaine…_ He pulled against the weight, against the water, and felt the tree respond. It began moving toward the shore, at angles to the current. He kept pulling, kept running, and got ahead of the snag.

Arthur caught up and pulled ahead, plunging into the water in front of Merlin. The snag was wallowing closer. Merlin had managed to slow it down and pull it into shallower water, but it was still moving. And worse, the root end had swung away, deeper into the current. As the stubby branches of the snag came into reach, Arthur set himself and grabbed a thick branch. Using himself as a pivot point, he pulled against the current. The roots began to come around, arcing downstream and shoreward. Seeing what the prince was doing, Merlin shifted his mental grip on the snag. Trusting Arthur to manage the weight of the tree, he used his magic to push sideways at the root end of the tree, shoving the roots toward shore. The prince's muscles bunched as he struggled to manage the added weight, but between them, they turned the snag. The roots grounded awkwardly in the mud of the shallows, and the tree rolled heavily. Arthur cursed and let go suddenly. Merlin immediately forced his way through the water to the root end of the tree, followed by Arthur, who was holding his left arm tightly against his chest. Merlin grabbed for a bundle of fabric and metal just under the surface of the water.

It was Gwaine. Arthur and Merlin hastily untangled the young man's limp form from the roots, and Arthur slung one of Gwaine's arms across his shoulders with a wince. "Merlin, get his other arm. I can't carry him." Together they carried the young man to shore and up the slippery, muddy bank. Mentally Merlin was reviewing Gaius' instructions for the care of a person who was drowning. _I remember when Geoffrey's grandson fell into the millpond._ Gaius had taken the opportunity to instruct Merlin while resuscitating the boy. _If they're coughing, leave them be, but if not, clear the airway, press out most of the water, and usually the victim begins breathing on their own - okay, I can do that._

They laid Gwaine down on the wet grass. He was white and still, clearly not breathing at all. Using his memories of Gaius, Merlin positioned Gwaine properly and began pressing down to push the water out of the lungs. Water gushed from his friend's mouth. He repeated the action. More water. Again. Less water. Again. Even less.

Why hadn't Gwaine started breathing? Panic was rising, choking off Merlin's air. Arthur had squatted down across from him, and now spoke quietly. Merlin recognized the tone through the fear. It was deliberately calm, firm, and even, calculated to inspire confidence. "Don't panic. Think. What else has Gaius taught you? You're not out of options yet." He paused, looked down at Gwaine, and back at Merlin.

Arthur's calmness helped Merlin claw his way back from panic. What else? Gaius had never taught him anything else for drowning - but what if his heart had stopped? Merlin reared back and delivered a chest blow. Nothing.

Other options. Other options included magic. With the prince right there, however, magic had consequences. Another glance at his friend's pale still face decided him. _I'll weather the consequences,_ he thought. _Gwaine is my friend._

Remembering the enferai, the sense of connectedness to the earth and the spiraling draw of life energy into them, Merlin realized that he knew what he needed. A burst of energy, life energy, might restart Gwaine's heartbeat and breathing. _I can sense it in me - maybe I can push some of it into his heart and lungs._ Sneaking a glance at Arthur, he added silently, _And hope I don't end up on the pyre._

He reared back again, keeping his head down to reduce Arthur's view of his eyes, and this time, as the chest blow struck he channeled a burst of his own life force directly into Gwaine's chest. The result was galvanic. Gwaine rolled to his side with water spewing from his nose and mouth, coughing and gagging and nearly convulsing as his body tried frantically to clear the water from his lungs.

As he reached to support Gwaine, murmuring reassurances, Merlin could see in his peripheral vision that Arthur had rocked backwards for a moment, and was now regarding him with narrowed eyes. The prince looked from Gwaine, currently coughing in spasms and struggling to sit up, to the blue lights still floating above the river. He shook his head sharply, stood up, and walked away.

It was only then that Merlin noticed Leon standing quietly a few feet away and the villagers arriving with torches and blankets. Soon Gwaine had regained his feet and was wrapped in a woolen blanket and being helped up the hill by Ben and Leon. Merlin was left alone by the blue-lit water to ponder - and dread - the consequences of what the prince had just seen.

 **Author's note: Hope you enjoyed! Thank you so very much to mersan123, coyachayqui, gingeraffealene, SherlockHolmes4884, lollypops101 and a guest (or two?) for your wonderful, encouraging, and idea-provoking comments - I very much appreciate them! And as always, thanks to trekmel for reading this over and helping to make sure I'm making sense!**


	14. Chapter 14 - Crossing

**The mudslide in the night took no lives, but it was a near thing. Gwaine and Arthur are a bit worse for the wear, and the companions need to regroup.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 14 – Crossing

The rain had softened and slowed during the last hours of darkness. When dawn came, blue sky was beginning to peek through the clouds to the east. Merlin was awake to see the sunrise, having been unable to sleep during what little had remained of the night. His thoughts were running in circles regarding the events of the night. It seemed impossible that Arthur had failed to notice magic being used directly under his nose, and the prince's reaction certainly had suggested that he'd seen. Still, Arthur had said nothing of the matter so far. Perhaps the need to find a new camp after the mudslide and get everyone settled had taken precedence. Surely he'd respond in some way, at some point. But how? What would he say? What would he _do_? With the uncertainty gnawing at him, the glorious beauty of the sunrise did little to settle Merlin's mood.

In that early morning light, the camp began to stir. Soon Leon took a few of the able-bodied with him, and went back to their campsite of the night before to see what remained of their belongings. When he returned, his report to Arthur was mixed to say the least.

"The ground cloth is nowhere to be seen, sire, and I could find neither your pack nor Gwaine's," he said, setting the remaining packs on the ground. "I did discover my pack and Merlin's." He indicated the two packs, one only scuffed and damp and the other dripping and mud-covered. "I can't vouch for the well-being of the contents, however. Merlin's was lodged under a fallen tree, and mine was in the mud in shallows of the river."

"Do an inventory, Leon, and tell me what we have left that is still useable," Arthur responded. "Merlin, help him." As the prince turned away, Merlin noticed that he was still carrying his right arm very carefully tucked against his body.

"Arthur, how is your arm? Do you want me to look at it?" he asked.

"It's fine." Arthur firmly turned away to speak to Mari. Had Merlin imagined an edge of ice to his tone?

At the question, Leon looked sharply at Arthur's arm. He beckoned Merlin over, and as they began their task asked in a low voice, "What about his arm?"

"He's holding it oddly, and has been since last night. I think he hurt it when we were fishing Gwaine out of the river."

Leon hummed wordlessly in response and said nothing more on the matter, returning his attention to their task. They began to lay out the contents of the two packs and sort the simply damp from the entirely unsalvageable. There was more of the former than the latter, but unfortunately all of the food was latter category. Half of it had been in Gwaine's pack, which was among the missing, and the portions in Leon's pack were a soggy and muddy mess. The pot and cooking tripod were still intact in Merlin's pack. The washcloths, of course, were fine, and though the soap inside them had softened in the damp, it was still useable. The medical kit, Merlin found when he tugged it free of the pack, had taken significant damage, first from the water and then from the impact of the tree that apparently had fallen directly on it. Most of the herbs were soaked and unusable. Merlin continued to dig through with increasing concern. Bandages could be dried, of course, but what about Gaius' healing salve? The glass of that jar was thicker than most, but still…

The chucky shape of the jar met his fingertips, and as he wrapped his hand around it, he felt an edge that shouldn't be there. Taking care not to jostle the glass, he slid the jar free and raised it to his eyes to inspect it.

The jar must have taken quite an impact. The heavy glass had crazed, narrow lines of cracks running outward in all directions from a spot near the bottom of the jar. One section of glass had broken free. Rainwater had infiltrated the salve in that area, but the thick stickiness of the unguent had somewhat resisted dilution. _Some of the salve is probably useable,_ thought Merlin. _Though I'm going to have to watch for splinters of glass in it._

He carefully set the jar back down, and dug out the rest of the contents of the pack. Soon their belongings were sorted and laid out to dry. "That's it, then." He looked at Leon.

"I'll go tell Arthur."

After reporting their findings, Leon had quietly spoken with Arthur for several minutes, gesturing at the injured arm. After some hesitation, Arthur allowed Leon to carefully push the fabric of the prince's sleeve up. Leon hissed and waved Merlin over without asking the prince's leave.

"Merlin, you need to look at this."

Merlin could see stiff resistance in the prince's expression, but took the opportunity Leon was offering. He came over to inspect the arm for himself. The prince's forearm was one huge bruise, the center of which had a suspiciously spongy look. The whole area was badly swollen, but even so Merlin could see that the line of the arm was slightly off. Both bones were broken; and not only broken, the bones were out of alignment. If they weren't repositioned and supported that way, the arm wouldn't heal correctly. Given that this was the crown prince's sword arm, such an outcome would be more than inconvenient.

"Arthur, this is broken. It needs to be set."

"Broken bones heal. Go away."

"This won't. Not properly, anyway. If you let it heal without getting the bones into the right place, it'll heal out of line. You won't have full use of it."

"Merlin, I ordered you to go away."

"Sire, it's your sword arm…"

"And now you call me sire while ignoring my orders. _Go away_." The tone was now icy.

"Arthur…"

"Leon, remove him."

Leon took a reluctant step toward Merlin, and Merlin allowed himself to be herded away. He couldn't quite interpret the look on the knight's face. Exasperation with the prince and unwilling obedience certainly, and sympathy for Merlin, but there was something else. Merlin couldn't put his finger on it.

"Merlin, let it go for now," the knight murmured, pitching the words for Merlin's ears only. "Let me talk with him." He glanced back at Arthur, and then around the camp. He let his voice return to normal volume and continued. "Have you checked on Gwaine this morning?" Leon's gaze flicked to the young man still sleeping propped against a tree. "I thought it seemed a bit surprising that he's still out."

Merlin, followed by Leon, moved to where Gwaine was sleeping and observed for a moment. The young man's face seemed pale under a layer of mud, scratches, and bruises. Something about his friend bothered Merlin, and it took him a moment to realize what it was. He could hear Gwaine breathing. There was a sound to it that hadn't been there before. He pressed his fingertips gently to the pulse point under the corner of the young man's jaw, and Gwaine suddenly awoke in a spasm of coughing.

"Owwww," he commented when he caught his breath. "I don't think there's any part of me that's not sore." He looked at the two concerned faces peering down at him. "What?"

"You did battle with a river and several trees," explained Leon solemnly but with a glint of amusement.

"Apparently I won." He sat up more fully and then scrambled to his feet, using Merlin as a ladder. "Or maybe not. Ouch." He steadied himself between Merlin and the tree he'd been sleeping against. Arthur approached and spoke to Gwaine.

"Can you walk?"

"'Course I can walk."

"Then we should go." Without a glance at Merlin, Arthur walked away.

Gwaine looked plaintively at Merlin. "But… Breakfast?"

"Bad news, Gwaine. No breakfast."

"No breakfast?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

At Arthur's order, their belongings had been quickly repacked, still quite damp, and the group began the day's journey with Gwaine complaining jovially at being asked to march so soon after awakening. At Leon's advice, they would be following the river, hoping to find a place at which it could be forded. The knight had explained that such a spot would be more difficult than usual to find, with the river running high. Nevertheless, as the land flattened out there should be spots where the water spread out wide and shallow. They simply might have to go out of their way a bit to find one. Nobody else mentioned the lack of breakfast, but Merlin imagined that everyone was probably hungry; all except Leah, of course, who was contentedly nursing as they walked.

The morning was beautiful. The rain-washed green of the forest glittered in the sunlight, seemingly fresh and new. The clouds were fast disappearing in the far western sky, and glad calls from tiny birds in the trees added music to the soft sigh of the wind. Merlin could feel the sun's warmth finally beginning to take the damp out of his clothes as he walked. The warmth did nothing for the cold in his gut, but between the beauty and the activity, Merlin could feel his mood lift a little, setting his fears apart from him a bit.

Gwaine bounced off his shoulder, coughing, and Merlin looked up to see the young man looking with amused confusion at Merlin's pack. "You're wearing a mop, Merlin."

 _Oh_. Merlin had taken out all the soaking wet bandaging he'd had in his pack and hung it anywhere he could, hoping that he could get them dry; wet bandages did nobody any good. The resulting white festoons did look a bit like a mop. He explained.

"As festive as your pack looks, your expression doesn't match it. You look like you're going to your own funeral."

Merlin winced at the choice of words. He looked around. People were everywhere. _Choose your words carefully._ "How much do you remember of last night?"

Gwaine coughed again and rubbed his chest. "I remember getting caught on something and getting dragged under. Couldn't get loose for love nor money. Thought it was over. Then I was back on land. So who do I thank for the gift of my life?"

"We managed to keep track of the tree you were tangled in and pull it ashore. But when Arthur and I pulled you out, you weren't breathing. I thought we were going to lose you, and," he lowered his voice, "I did something about it. I think Arthur saw."

There was a pause as Gwaine digested this. He looked carefully at Merlin, head cocked and eyes narrow, and spoke very quietly. "And you're afraid of what Arthur will do." It was, very clearly, a statement and not a question.

When Merlin made no additional comment, Gwaine sighed, triggering a spasm of coughing. "He won't confront you now," he predicted when he'd caught his breath. "He's too much of a strategist, and now's the wrong time. So we make plans."

"We. No, Gwaine."

" _Yes_ , Gwaine. We. You're in this mess partially because of me. We'll figure something out." He coughed again and looked irritated. "As soon as I stop coughing up a lung."

-o-o-o-o-o-

As the forest continued to thin, Leon set them a task: find long branches, even small trees, long and straight and about as thick as a person's wrist. Young Bard fell to with a will, darting in tangents around their line of march and dragging out every fallen limb. When anyone found one that was long, slender, and sturdy, Leon would trim off the extraneous limbs and hand the pole to someone to carry. Soon they had several poles. Merlin had no idea for what, but figured he'd find out when the time came. He was more concerned about Arthur and Gwaine.

The prince was struggling, though as was typical of Arthur, he was trying hard not to show it. He still held his arm tightly against him, and Merlin could see the tightness around his eyes slowly increasing. When it was necessary to step down from something - a stone or root - the impact elicited a soft hiss and for a moment the prince went white. Merlin began looking for likely branches for making splints.

Gwaine wasn't in significantly better shape. Though the stiffness had abated once the young man got moving, through the morning the coughing had worsened, and Gwaine's breathing had a whistle to it. His pallor of the morning was giving way to a flush. When Merlin asked how he was feeling, the response was a cheery "Fine!" but he walked with dogged persistence, in uncharacteristic silence. The water hadn't fully cleared from his lungs, Merlin judged. Unfortunately, while he knew that this was a problem, he didn't have any idea how to treat it. _We need to get to Gaius,_ he thought. _Or, failing that, at least get to someplace he can rest and stay warm and dry._ None of those things were available here, so the only option to was to keep going. Merlin knew it and, probably, Gwaine knew it. They had to keep on.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Late in the afternoon, tired and very hungry, they came to a potential ford. The river had spread wide, and was kicking and splashing its way through a maze of stones. The way forward had become challenging for a brand new reason: a flooded meadow. After one of the women had nearly lost her boot to the deep sucking mud, everyone was staying away from the meadow. Leon, after asking Arthur's permission, called forward everyone with a stick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arthur request a stick from one of the older women and join them. _Clotpole. You've got one arm out of commission and you've just got to do this anyway._

"We'll use these to find the best path," the knight explained. "We'll work our way toward the other side, probing the depth before us with the sticks. If you find a place that's deeper than about this," he held up a hand a waist height, "stop where you are and shout out."

Merlin shed his pack and readied his stick. With several of the villagers, Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon, he stepped out into the river, trying to hop from rock to rock as much as he could. _My boots just now stopped squelching when I walk - I'd like to keep it that way._ He picked a meandering path, heading slightly upstream so that he was at the end of the line.

The sound of the water rushing around him filled his ears, and the shouts of his companions were barely to be heard. The sun warmed the back of his head and shoulders, and the wind cooled his face. He looked down into the water. It was opaque and brown with carried silt. There was no judging the depth visually. He thrust in his pole, and discovered that it was only about knee deep. Leaping to another rock, Merlin continued across. Laughter reached him faintly. Somebody had slipped off a rock and landed in the shallows. He kept on working his way forward. The water was getting deeper, but thus far there were frequent rocks one could use. The jagged line of men and women advanced slowly across the river, and Merlin began to hope that they'd be able to rock-hop the entire way across.

Merlin was nearly three quarters of the way across the river when he reached a point at which the nearest dry boulder was well out of jumping range. Plunging his pole forward, he nearly lost his grip on it. The water here was deep - as high as a tall man, at least. Shout from downstream informed him that others had found the same. A deep channel ran between them and the other side. _One good boulder in the middle, between me and that rock over there, and I could do it,_ thought Merlin. He stole a look downstream. Leon was sloshing and hopping his way toward Arthur, and the rest were perched on boulders or on the shore, watching the pair expectantly. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to Merlin.

He reached out with his magic into the rocks and soil beneath him. Was there a big boulder down there? He stretched out, searching. There! Just upstream, a cart-length away and deep in the bottom of the channel, there was a huge blocky chunk of rock. It should be possible to sort of _roll_ it downstream. He extended his magic to grip the rock and began pulling it free of the streambed. Through his boots, he could feel tiny movements in the rocks all around, as stones came free and shifted into the space the large rock left behind. Still he pulled, turning and rolling the weight of the rock through the water. The rock came vertical, just clearing the surface of the water in the center of the channel slightly downstream of Merlin. As it did so, Merlin felt a slippage in the stones below the boulder he was standing on. The boulder tilted, dumping him unceremoniously into the water. He barely had time for a startled yelp before the cold water closed over his head.

The water was flowing strongly but smoothly here in this channel, and Merlin was a good swimmer. There had been an excellent swimming hole in the stream near Ealdor. Merlin had spent many happy summer hours there, when he could escape his chores. After his initial moment of surprise, he oriented himself and swam toward the surface, thinking quickly. He knew he should kick off his boots, but the thought of making the rest of the journey barefoot was painful. He'd try to extricate himself with the boots _on_ , thank you.

Surfacing, he wiped the water from his eyes and looked around, treading water. It was a bit harder, admittedly, with the drag of boots and clothing. Leon and Arthur had realized he'd gone in, and were hastening to the edge of the channel. Leon was shouting something about sticks, but Merlin couldn't quite make it out. _It was lucky that I was upstream,_ thought Merlin. _If I'd picked downstream it'd all be up to me._ He swam toward the proffered sticks with all his might as he was swept along and soon he was being pulled out onto a large flat rock by Leon's two hands and Arthur's one.

He floundered to his feet to find Arthur staring at him, face unreadable. Then the prince smacked him sharply in the back of the head. The motion jostled the prince's injured arm, and he froze, white to the lips and face set in a grimace of pain. Merlin reached hesitantly to steady him. Arthur apparently was hurting too much to brush him off. "When we get to the other side," said Merlin firmly, "we are setting that arm. Even if I have to bribe Leon and Gwaine to sit on you."

There was a pause as Arthur gathered himself and regained his usual stoic demeanor. Then the response was somehow simultaneously both curt and rueful. "Fine, Merlin. You set the arm. But first we have to get across this cursed river."

"I found a way. I just fell in before I could tell anybody."

"Only you, Merlin."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It did turn out to be as nearly as simple as that. Merlin's boulder, with the help of the gathered poles, formed a crossing navigable by even the least able-bodied of the group, and soon they were safely across the channel and able to rock-hop across to the far shore. There the group stopped to rest.

Seeing a tiny stream running down to join the river, Arthur directed the group to follow it upwards a short distance so that they could all drink something other than muddy river water that had been allowed to settle in Merlin's cookpot.

"Sire," interjected Leon as most of the group headed up the hill following the stream. "You mentioned letting Merlin set your arm."

Arthur looked annoyed. _Probably was hoping we'd forget_ , thought Merlin.

"Now is as good a time as any," he suggested, "while everyone's out of our hair. Lie down for a second and I'll see what I can do."

"You do know what you're doing, I trust."

"I've done it several times under Gaius' watchful eye. I know how to set a broken arm, Arthur. Lie down and stretch your arm out this way."

Once he had Arthur arranged to his satisfaction, he instructed Leon, "Steady his shoulder, and make sure it doesn't move. I need to pull against it to straighten the bones." He looked at Arthur. "Don't move, and don't resist. Keep your arm loose and relaxed. You're stronger than I am, and if you tighten up, I won't be able to pull the bones into place." He paused. "It's going to hurt. I'm sorry."

Arthur scoffed. "Don't be such a girl. Just do it already."

Merlin grasped the prince's wrist. For all of his brave words, he hated setting bones. He didn't like inflicting pain on a patient, and the feeling of bones moving under the skin made his stomach churn. Still, he pulled steadily, feeling the nauseating grit of bones sliding against each other. Arthur gasped, but as requested did not tense or move the arm. As soon as the bones felt like they were back in place, he let go carefully and looked at Arthur's face. The prince was bone-white and pouring sweat.

"That's it. Stay still for a minute while I splint it." As Leon let go, the knight shifted to lay a hand on Arthur's shoulder for a moment. Then he got up and went off in the direction of the little stream, coming back a few minutes later with a skin of water and the rest of the group who were talking excitedly about getting home. By this time, Merlin had splinted the arm and fashioned a rudimentary sling, and had helped Arthur to sit up and lean against a tree. The knight handed the skin to Arthur, who took it with his good hand and drank thirstily.

Soon the prince was climbing to his feet. "What are we waiting for? Don't we have a village to reach?"

Cheers from the villagers were his reward, and the group moved out as the sun dipped to touch the tops of the trees. The sun sank, and just as dusk was falling, there was a welcome sight ahead - the firelit windows of the village of Breckfall.

The sight filled Merlin with both relief and trepidation. They were safe, they could get warm and dry for the first time in a day and a half - but Arthur might ask the fateful question. What in the world was he going to say?

 **Thanks for the reviews from last chapter - and to all of you who are still reading along. Is it horrible that they haven't had "the conversation" yet? I'm so sorry - Arthur is being stubborn and won't let me. He's apparently not yet ready to talk. I promise, he'll get there eventually.**


	15. Chapter 15 - Heat

**The travelers have arrived at Breckfall and all seems to be well there. Merlin, however, has been thinking. Now that they have arrived in a place of safety, Arthur surely will ask the fateful question. What will he say?**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 15 – Heat

The arrival of the companions at Breckfall had turned into something of an impromptu party. A head had popped out of a doorway as they approached and a young male voice shouted, "Mother!" The village was soon gathered, exchanging hugs, back slaps, and handshakes, with everyone talking at once. In the center of town, near the well, somebody set up a makeshift table and food appeared. It was dinner time, after all, Merlin thought, and probably nobody wanted to be separated, so they'd all brought their meals out to share.

At one point a bowl was shoved into Merlin's hands, with Mari's smiling face beyond it. "Eat!" she said. "You all deserve it." Merlin looked around for Arthur, and Mari correctly interpreted the look. "Arthur has been seen to, young man. You go ahead and eat."

Merlin took the bowl and went looking for Gwaine. He found the young man quietly sitting on a log watching the hubbub, a bowl of uneaten food in his hand. _Gwaine quiet?_ The very concept was worrisome. _Gwaine is only quiet when he sleeps, and not even necessarily then, since he snores. And he also has food in his hand and isn't eating it. This from the man who ends up sneaking food out of the kitchen between meals at least twice a day every day._

"How are you doing?" Merlin asked. Gwaine shrugged tiredly.

"Fine. Just this coughing needs to go."

Merlin reached over to lay a hand on Gwaine's forehead. Gwaine shook him off, but not quickly enough. "You're running a fever. Does your head hurt? Or your chest?"

"Chest hurts a bit when I breathe, but it's not a problem."

"You're sick, Gwaine. You should rest." He looked around for Mari. "Stay here."

He joined the group around Mari and when there was a pause in the conversation asked her if there was a place that Gwaine could lie down and rest, preferably near a fire for warmth.

"For the people who saved us from Cenred's dungeons? Of course there is a place." She looked up at Leon, who was standing at her elbow, with a smile. "In fact, the four of you must stay with Jacob and me tonight. Gwaine and at least one other of you can sleep by the fire, and two people can sleep up in the loft. It's where my two older boys slept before they got married and moved off on their own. Here, come with me!" Once Gwaine had been collected, she led the way to a stone house that claimed pride of place near the center of the village. Following her into the house, Merlin saw that the door opened into what must be the main room of the house. The cooking hearth took up most of one wall, in which a fire licked and crackled merrily. Two stools were tucked under a wooden table nearby. Opposite the fireplace, there was a wall with a door in it, and a ladder leading upward to an open loft. Through the open door, Merlin was relieved see an actual bed and another small hearth, laid for a fire but not yet lit. Knowing that many folks slept before their fire, he had been worried that his and Gwaine's presence would have displaced Mari and her husband from their usual spot.

Mari again read his face. "Jacob, with help from pretty much the whole town, put on the addition for the bedroom and the loft when we had five little ones at home. It was a vast improvement to not have all seven of us crowding around the one fireplace at night," she added with a smile.

She went into the bedroom and came back out with a pile of blankets. "There are enough here for you two. I'll ask around for blankets for the others."

She waved away Merlin's and Gwaine's thanks. "As I said, it's the least we can do! I'll leave you to get settled. Make yourselves at home, and feel free to put the kettle on. Tea's on the shelf. I'll let Arthur know what the arrangements are." With those words, she disappeared out the door.

Gwaine pulled out a stool and sagged onto it, still holding his now almost cold bowl of food, and Merlin firmly suppressed a smile. The young man had been putting on a brave face for Mari and the villagers, but now that it was just the two of them, Gwaine was showing the strain. "Eat that," Merlin said firmly, "while I make up a bed for you. And then you are lying down and sleeping if I have to trip you and then sit on you."

"I'm not the one who passed out from not seeing to myself," Gwaine needled with a weak grin. "I'm in favor of a nap, personally." He looked in disfavor at the food, however, and added, "But I'm really, really not hungry." When Merlin eyebrows climbed, he sighed. "And yeah, I know. I should be."

"Eat a few bites. And I'll make you some tea, maybe one of those will help."

He managed to get a cup of tea into Gwaine, and the required few bites of food, and the young man lay down with no significant resistance. Once at rest, he seemed to perk up a little bit.

"Merlin, about Arthur, what can I do to help?"

Merlin blinked at the sudden change of topic and didn't answer for a moment, so Gwaine continued. "It's partly my fault, or at least because you used magic to save me, that this is coming to a head so soon. I want to help."

"He would have guessed eventually. Gaius says he can't imagine how I've avoided it this long with all the times I've done magic right under Arthur's nose."

When Merlin stopped there and did not continue, Gwaine asked, "Merlin, what are you going to do? Are you going to tell him?"

"Yes. No. Gwaine, I don't know. He's not going to take it well."

"I think - and I can't believe I'm saying this - I think you're not giving him enough credit. He's seen and accepted magic how many times in the last few days? And he clearly cares about you. He'll keep your secret, even from his father. And maybe, who knows? Maybe he'll find a way-" Gwaine's words were interrupted by a fit of coughing. When he could breathe again, he did not immediately continue. He was watching Merlin, and those eyes were uncomfortably keen. After another moment of scrutiny, he said, "Tell me what you think will happen if you tell him."

Merlin stared into the flames licking happily at the log in the fireplace. "I don't know exactly what he'll do. But no matter what he does, I'll be separated from him. Don't you see? If he tells his father, Uther will try to burn me as a sorcerer."

"Try being the operative word, I should think."

"I could get myself out of the cells, yes. But I'd have to hide from then on. I couldn't show my face in Camelot. How can I protect Arthur if I can't even get near him?"

Comprehension sparked in Gwaine's eyes and he smiled faintly. "Arthur's right. Only you, Merlin. You're not afraid to die. You're only afraid that you'll be prevented from protecting him!" He chuckled, coughed, and continued. "So that's the worst case scenario. What's the best?"

"I admit that I have magic, and not only does he decide not to kill me himself, he decides not to tell Uther. And then he sends me away."

There was a silence. Gwaine opened his mouth to object, and then closed it. Merlin could see in his face the realization that it was, in fact, the most probable reaction on Arthur's part. Arthur would know that Merlin's magic meant that Camelot itself was a danger to Merlin. Arthur would try to get Merlin out of Uther's reach, and out of his line of sight. He'd send Merlin home, at the very least.

After a moment, Gwaine shook his head. "Maybe not." His tone was dubious, however, and Merlin was sure.

"He would, and you know it. And he could enforce it, too. And then I'd still end up hiding in Camelot and trying to protect him from a distance."

"There's got to be another possibility."

"What, then?"

Gwaine sighed and triggered another spasm of coughing. This one left him gasping for air, and Merlin realized that he was being neglectful of a patient. "Go to sleep, Gwaine. You need to rest. I've got a plan, and I'm going to begin it by being asleep when he gets here."

"You're going to dodge the question."

"That's right. I promised not to lie, but I didn't promise to answer."

"I think you're making a mistake, mate." The words were gentle and rueful. "You can only dodge for so long, and then what?"

"We'll see. Go to sleep, Gwaine." By the time Merlin had arranged a bedroll for himself, his patient was asleep, leaving Merlin to stare into the fire again. By the time Arthur and Leon arrived, Merlin was asleep as well.

-o-o-o-o-o-

 _Merlin could feel every inch of his skin. Sensations poured through him. Sunlight was bright in his eyes and a roaring and crackling sound met his ears. His nose registered the scents of wood smoke and humanity. He could feel a hard vertical support running up the center of his back. His arms were twisted behind him uncomfortably. The rough surface of a rope dug into his wrists, binding them painfully together. All of those sensations, however, were secondary to the incredible heat that seared his skin. He opened his mouth to gasp, and the heat hit his lungs in a burning wave. His eyes opened wide. He was in the courtyard of the castle, in that sea of white stone. He stood on the pyre, the flames licking at the wood all around him and baking his body as they crept toward him. Above him, on the balcony from which Uther spoke to his people, there stood two men. His king and his prince were watching him burn. As Merlin looked up at them, Arthur's eyes met his. The prince's expression was utterly cold. Merlin's heart broke as the flames reached him. He screamed his friend's name._

"Arthur, no! Arthur!"

"What the…Merlin? Whoa, Merlin, easy, _easy!_ Easy, it's okay, you're alright." Gwaine's voice, coming from only a few feet away, rose through his panic. Through the fear and confusion, Merlin heard a thump and a scuffle of feet rapidly approaching.

"Breathe, Merlin. Take a deep breath." That was Leon's voice, and it was close by. Firm hands closed around his forearms.

"Just a nightmare." That was Arthur a short distance away, and though the tone was somewhat disparaging, there was another note to it as well, an undertone of worry.

Merlin, gasping, opened his eyes into dimness. He was wedged into the corner of the room nearest the hearth, curled into a ball with his arms wrapped around his legs and head. The fire had burned most of the way down, and the room was lit only by the remaining embers. Leon was crouched next to him, trying to gently encourage him to uncurl. Gwaine had pushed himself up to a seated position on his bedroll and was cursing in between coughs as he struggled to untangle himself from his blankets, staring at Merlin with wide-eyed concern. Arthur was standing protectively over them all, sword drawn left-handed. As Merlin watched, the prince reversed his sword and somewhat clumsily slid it back into place in its scabbard, then strode over to Merlin and Leon. He reached down with his good arm, grasped Merlin's elbow and lifted. Merlin had perforce to climb to his feet, steadied by Leon.

"Lie back down, Gwaine," ordered the prince quietly. "And you, Merlin, as well. Go back to sleep." About to push Merlin toward his blankets, he paused. He met Merlin's eyes for a moment searchingly, and opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he closed his mouth, leaving whatever it was unspoken, and turned away, climbing the ladder to the loft one-handed with enviable ease and disappearing into the darkness.

Leon looked Merlin over in one lightning glance. "You'll be alright?" he asked Merlin. When Merlin nodded, the knight also turned away and climbed up into the loft, leaving Merlin standing by his blankets feeling disoriented and somehow lost. He sank down on his blankets, deliberately turning away from the embers in the hearth.

Gwaine spoke, sounding sleepy in the dimness. "What was it, Merlin?"

"I was dying in the flames and Arthur didn't care." His own bald words made Merlin wince.

There was a moment of sympathetic silence.

"You know that's not going to happen, right?"

"It was just a dream, Gwaine."

"You going to be able to get back to sleep?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Gwaine."

"G'night, Merlin."

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the morning Merlin awoke in a far calmer fashion to find Mari making breakfast at the hearth and Arthur and Leon talking quietly. Over breakfast, Merlin heard the news. It turned out that Arthur had been busy the evening before. The village's most accomplished rider had been hired as a messenger to Camelot. He'd ridden out just after dark on a horse purchased from the only man in town who had one to spare, and should have arrived at Camelot in the wee hours of the morning. The messenger carried a letter for King Uther with him, in Arthur's somewhat strangled handwriting, assuring his father of his well-being and requesting a small detachment of guards be sent to Breckfall. The prince's intention was to stay at Breckfall until the guards arrived, and then return home. The expectation was that if all went well the detachment might arrive as early as mid-afternoon.

It was then that Merlin did some calculations. How long _had_ they been gone? It had been morning when they'd been pulled through the portal, and by that night they'd been by the river. He'd lost a day there, but accounting for that, then the journey, and then their stay in Cygnonnen, followed by their escape from Cenred's castle, today must be the eleventh day. Eleven days since Uther had presumably been told that his only son and heir had been sucked through a wall by magic. Eleven days since Gaius would have received the news that his ward had disappeared into the wall with Arthur.

Gaius had, perhaps, more resources at his command than Uther did in this situation, but even with his knowledge of magic and his hidden library of books on the subject, he still would have been helpless to do very much about it. His foster father had to have been half mad with worry. Merlin set the thought aside as Mari handed him a bowl of warm porridge. Hopefully by now his beloved guardian's worries had been alleviated.

Gwaine was still sleeping heavily even after Merlin and the rest of the household had finished breakfast. Merlin, checking on him, found him to be even more feverish than the day before. His breathing had a disturbing bubbling sound to it, and even in his sleep he was wracked with fits of coughing. _Sicker_ , thought Merlin. _And I have no idea what to do for him, other than warmth and rest. Willow bark for the fever, I suppose. Mine's gone, but maybe somebody in the village has some. Or failing that, I can go looking for a willow tree._ He resolved to go find willow bark.

When he got back having succeeded in finding willow bark, Arthur demanded water warmed for washing. This kept Merlin quite busy for some time filling the generously sized washbowl that was as close to a bath as Arthur was likely to get here. It took kettle after kettle of hot water, ostensibly heated over the fire, but as usual Merlin helped the heating along with magic whenever he could without being detected. While Arthur washed and dressed in clothing borrowed from somebody in town, Merlin monitored Gwaine worriedly. He'd steeped the willow bark for tea with the first batch of hot water, and had coaxed some of it into Gwaine, but the young man's fever had abated only a little. He was sleeping again, though restlessly, muttering and tossing in his sleep and coughing wrackingly.

Arthur, when he was finished washing, blithely offered the use of the washbowl to Leon, who accepted gratefully and had the good manners to thank Merlin when he topped it off with hot water. By the time Merlin had assisted with the rest of the prince's ablutions, Leon was clean and redressed and had disappeared back outside, commenting that he wanted to watch for the Camelot contingent to arrive.

Arthur settled on a stool near Gwaine, as if to watch over him, and a strange silence developed. Merlin suspected that it was time to start dodging, so he asked, "Sire, if you're going to be here with Gwaine for a few minutes, do you mind if I wash up quickly?" Arthur nodded his permission, and Merlin disappeared behind the screen and stripped to the waist to begin washing. He realized with chagrin that while he'd gotten himself out of sight, he was not out of earshot. Arthur could still ask him questions.

Apparently the prince had come to the same conclusion, because after several long minutes of excruciating silence, the question came. "Merlin," said the prince without preamble from the other side of the screen, "you're Emrys, aren't you?"

Merlin gulped, but thinking quickly he splashed the water loudly and dunked his whole head in the washbowl. By the time Arthur poked his head around the screen to see why he hadn't gotten an answer, Merlin was wiping the water from his eyes with the backs of his hands, and groping for a towel he knew perfectly well wasn't there. "Where did I put the blasted thing?" he groused, as if to himself as water from his hair streamed down his back and chest and soaked his trousers. "I know I had a towel…"

A dry towel smacked him in the face and he opened his eyes as innocently as he could, catching the towel automatically, to find Arthur staring at him with a narrowed gaze. Just as the prince was opening his mouth to say something, a shout was heard outside.

A child came running full tilt up to Mari's house, out of breath and excited, brown braids bouncing behind her. "There are riders coming, wearing Camelot red!" she announced from the open doorway. "Mari said to watch and tell you if I saw somebody coming. They're coming, lots of them!"

Arthur's attention leapt from the child to Merlin and back. He took two steps toward the door and then turned back toward Merlin. "We are going to talk, Merlin." Then he walked out to greet the riders. Merlin toweled his hair off with frantic speed, grabbed his shirt, and followed.

Sure enough, a squad of guards was racing into the village, riding horses whose hard breathing and head movements suggested that they'd been exercised a bit more than was good for them. The group stopped and dismounted near the village well. At the back of the column a stooped white-haired figure in worn brown robes was stiffly dismounting. Merlin felt his heart lift. It was Gaius! He sprinted past Leon and Arthur and through the throng of villagers, catching the old man unawares in a bear hug. Gaius, after a moment of startlement, wrapped his arms tightly around his ward, returning the embrace. When Merlin let him go, he reached across and took Merlin's face in his hands. "It's good to see you, my boy. I thought I might have lost you this time." A gentle cuff and Merlin was released, but not before he'd seen the sheen of tears blinked back.

"I'm fine, Gaius, but I'm glad you came. It's Gwaine. He's so sick, and I don't know what to do for him."

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Gaius had finished examining the delirious and uncooperative Gwaine, his face was grave. "There is an infection in his lungs," the old healer explained, "which is causing the fever." He pointed to Gwaine's hands, which kept returning to the young man's chest. "You can see that he has pain, and I can hear the obstruction when he breathes." He thought for a moment, and then continued. "Merlin, heat some water for me, please. And see if you can get a cup and a shallow bowl. I have two remedies in my saddlebags that may help, but we'll need to get them into him."

As it turned out, it took four people to get Gaius' medicines into the patient, for Gwaine's fever was now so high that he was no longer able to cooperate in his own care and struggled when handled. After he knocked the cup right out of Gaius' hands, the physician recruited Leon and Arthur to hold Gwaine's arms. With that help, Merlin and Gaius together were able to manage him enough to get the medicines into him. One of the remedies, a steam intended to be inhaled, provoked a spate of coughing so prolonged and intense that Merlin was truly afraid for his friend. Supporting Gwaine firmly, and not stopping the flow of calming words, he looked pleadingly up Gaius.

"He needs to clear his lungs, my boy. Don't worry, just keep him upright until it stops. Then we will lay him down and see what we can do to lower the fever."

As Gaius had predicted, soon the coughing abated. Leon helped Merlin lay Gwaine back on his pallet and Merlin, at Gaius' direction, applied compresses cooled in the well. Bit by bit the fever came back down.

Finally, very late in the afternoon, Gwaine's fever broke and Gaius pronounced him to be on the road to recovery. The old man struggled to his feet and found a stool. His gaze took in Merlin, still sitting next to Gwaine, Leon leaning on the wall, and Arthur in his sling having retreated to the other stool. Looking at Arthur, he began, "Now we can talk for a bit. There is news from home, Sire. Your disappearance caused a great deal of consternation. And then over the last few days we have had, shall we say, some highly unusual occurrences."

 **Author's note: Thanks to all of you who read and especially those who reviewed - I so appreciate it! I hope you're still enjoying the story. Let me know!**


	16. Chapter 16 - News

**Unexpectedly, Gaius arrived with the relief column from Camelot and none too soon, for Gwaine was badly in need of his expertise. Now, though, with Gwaine on the road to recovery, Arthur is itching to get back to Camelot. Before they set out, though, Gaius has news.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 16 – News

Once Gwaine was resting peacefully, Gaius began relating the events that had happened in Camelot since the prince's startling disappearance.

"As you know, Geoffrey was there when Arthur came to investigate the howling heard by the guards in the vaults. He told me that the letters on the wall just lit up and the wall sucked you in. Moments later, there was just the stone wall with its old carvings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except that the four of you were gone. Uther was notified, of course. He commanded that Geoffrey and I begin researching at once into what could have happened. Geoffrey reminded him, respectfully, that he had ordered all books of magic burned in the Purge. Nevertheless, the king ordered a review of the records of the realm, to see if we could find references to the circle of symbols and its purpose."

"Geoffrey and I began combing the books, including the ones-" He broke off, clearly aware that he'd nearly said something he should not in the presence of the king's son.

Arthur spoke wryly. "The ones you saved from the Purge. Go on."

"The official records have odd gaps in them during the reign of King Constantine, Uther's father. The earliest ones seemed to deal with some mysterious 'contact' that is never officially described. Some of the later gaps had to do with sentencing of prisoners. Nowhere did we find direct mention of the circle of symbols in the vaults."

Leon suddenly looked ill. "Sentencing of prisoners? Were they putting people through the portal to be eaten by the wolf?"

Gaius looked at him sharply. "You've encountered the wolf, then."

Merlin responded. "It tried to munch Leon. But go on, we'll catch you up later."

Gaius looked curious indeed. Still, he continued. "Our, ah, other books were more helpful, but only slightly so. An entry written early in that time period mentions being sent by the king through a portal to meet with another sorcerer. It doesn't say where or why. We connected the dots, however, and made the assumption that the circle might be a portal. The question, then, was how to use it. After much reading and much experimentation, we hypothesized that probably the only person other than Arthur who could activate the portal was Uther."

Merlin felt his eyebrows climbing toward his hair. _Probably the only thing that could have brought the king to deliberately use magic is the safety of his son._

Gaius went on. "As we had guessed, Uther's touch opened the circle. This time, we had taken precautions, so no unwilling captives were pulled in. However, two men had volunteered to go through the portal to assist you, if they were able. Tied off with ropes, they entered the portal, hoping to effect a rescue mission. We do not know their fate, for they did not return. The portal closed of its own accord and the severed rope ends fell to the floor. The men were gone."

"Gaius, who were they?" the prince asked. His voice was calm, but Merlin could hear the regret. Arthur knew as well as Merlin did that those men had almost certainly died, trapped in lightless corridors with an enormous hungry wolf.

When Gaius identified the brave souls who had followed Arthur into the portal, Arthur nodded his acknowledgement and motioned for him to continue.

"The king set a four-man guard round the clock on the portal, thinking that they could be of help to you if you could find a way to get back through. It was good that he did, because four days ago the portal began behaving strangely. The symbols would glow momentarily, and when they did, the guards could see the center of the circle turn dark for a moment. Then one afternoon, two days ago, out from the circle came a gigantic wolf. The guards managed to sound the alarm before dying at the claws of the beast. The knights converged on the vaults, but by that time the wolf was loose in the castle. Long story short, they finally managed to pin it down in a corridor. They slew it, but lost two knights. There were many sickened and injured as well."

"When things calmed down enough that somebody could go down and check the vault itself, we discovered that the portal had changed. When it has opened in the past the center turned black. Now, though, the opening is a sort of oily silver, and it doesn't seem inclined to close. I will tell you that standing near it gives one the strangest feeling, too, like eyes upon you in a dark room. So now there are eight guards, four in the room and four outside. And nobody, including me, has the least idea what to do."

There was a moment in which Gaius' sigh seemed to echo around the room. Quiet settled on the group, broken when Gaius asked, "So what happened when you went through the circle?"

Arthur rose from his seat. "Merlin, why don't you fill Gaius in while you start getting us ready to leave. I want to talk to the sergeant. We'll ride out in the morning."

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the time Merlin and Leon together had told Gaius the story of their adventures on the other side of the portal, evening was approaching. They had gathered quite an audience without Merlin even having noticed. Folk had crammed themselves into Mari's house, perched quietly on every surface, leaning against every wall, and seated on the floor when the perches and walls had filled up. Gaius had been in turns amused, horrified, curious, and appalled. Several times the old man's knowing gaze met Merlin's as events were described. The words, ' _You used magic, didn't you?'_ and _'Gaius, I had to,'_ hung unspoken in the air between them.

Merlin had been prepared to divert the story as needed to minimize mention of magic, but interestingly enough, he never needed to. Leon seemed to have decided that it perhaps was best if they consult Arthur before discussing magic other than that which happened in "a mystical land far away". When the story was finished and the listeners began to filter out to return to their own homes, the knight stood up. "I'll go find Arthur," was all he said before disappearing out the door. Merlin turned back to Gaius with a grin.

"His royal pain-in-the-backside wants me to pack. But since we have almost nothing _to_ pack, there's not much to do. Did the relief column bring provisions that I could raid?"

"Yes. I had recommended that they bring plenty. Most of it is in my saddlebags still." Gaius looked around the room, now empty except for the sleeping Gwaine. Even Mari had gone outside to enjoy the last sunlight of the day. "So now that there are no extra ears, why don't you tell me the rest of the story?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Through the rest of that evening, Merlin had been aware that Arthur was trying to get him alone, without making it obvious that he was doing so. First he'd been sent out for firewood, and Arthur had followed. The happy accident of the neighbor's pigs 'inexplicably' getting out of their pigsty and heading straight for Arthur had interrupted the conversation as Merlin and several of the neighbor's family members teamed up to chase them back to their enclosure. The pigs seemed to enjoy their unexpected adventure, and were by no means interested in being recaptured, so by the time the last of the wayward animals had been rounded up, the pig-wranglers were being called for dinner. Later, a conveniently dropped pitcher and the ensuing mess and attention had derailed another conversation. And of course once everyone had bedded down for the night, Mari's house was full of bodies and ears. Apparently the prince had decided to make sure their talk was private, for he said nothing about the subject of Emrys for the rest of the evening.

Not that that had reassured Merlin very much. He'd still awakened from nightmare after nightmare, though at least those times he hadn't roused the whole household in the process. In each one, his fears played out before his eyes - fear of failing destiny itself. He died, or Arthur did, over and over through the night, and in each dream he was unable to protect his prince. In the last hours of the night, Merlin had decided that going back to sleep was unwise. He stayed awake until dawn, watching the fire and worrying. When morning came, he was no nearer to a good solution to his dilemma, but at least there would be the distraction of travelling.

-o-o-o-o-o-

In the clear coolness of the early morning, seven men rode out to return to Camelot. Arthur led the way, with the faithful Leon in attendance. The prince had also appropriated two of the guards for additional protection for the ride home, leaving the rest of the squad in Breckfall to serve as a deterrent to Cenred making further incursions in the area. Gwaine had adamantly refused to be left behind, declaring that he'd steal a horse and travel behind them if he couldn't ride with them. So, much against Gaius' better judgement, the young man was riding alongside Merlin, having promised to tell someone he needed to rest _before_ he fell off his horse. Gaius had grumbled about young men and their unwillingness to rest, his baleful glances taking in both Gwaine and Merlin, who had pulled similar stunts in the past. The physician rode on Gwaine's other side when the terrain permitted, clearly lending little credence to Gwaine's protestations of being perfectly able to ride.

The road leading out of the village was packed dirt, softened now with the recent rains. It was wide enough for a wagon, and in fact, deep ruts in the softest areas proclaimed that wagons frequently travelled it. At first it ran alongside cultivated fields belonging to the denizens of Breckfall, but soon it dove into forests, thick and green with summer. Here the road narrowed a bit. Wagons passing through here would be constantly brushing up against the undergrowth. Still, though, it was wide enough for two to ride abreast, so Merlin made it his business to stay near Gwaine.

The morning hours of the ride were lacking in privacy similarly to the evening before. Even had he wished to, Arthur had little chance to ask Merlin anything, for as the morning went on Gwaine seemed to be having difficulty. Merlin was riding close by in case Gwaine was unable to keep his promise to ask for a break before collapsing. By just shy of noon, Gwaine was swaying in the saddle, causing Gaius to declare that his patient needed an hour's rest before continuing.

"Merlin," ordered the prince, "Let Gaius get Gwaine settled-"

It was as far as he got before a convenient sudden rustling in the leaves at the side of the road unnerved his horse. Arthur narrowly avoided being dislodged when the horse reared. By the time the prince had regained his seat and calmed his mount, Merlin had already dismounted and was helping Gwaine to climb down. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin watched the prince scanning the ground for traces of whatever creature had so spooked his horse. Finding no sign at all that anything had been there, he turned toward Merlin, who affected not to notice. After a long narrow stare, the prince sighed, dismounted, and ordered the guards to distribute food to the group.

Through the remainder of the rest period, Merlin was tense with anticipation. He managed to dodge a couple of requests, and once when it looked as though he was out of options, a coughing fit from Gwaine distracted both of them. By the time the coughing subsided, Arthur was looking sourly at the two of them. Then he stalked away, muttering something about scouting up the road a little ways. Gwaine picked up his head, and whispered so only Merlin could hear, "You do that, princess."

When Arthur returned, Merlin tried hard to anticipate anything Arthur might send him to do on his own, and preemptively get it done. _If he doesn't have to order me to do it, he can't predict when I'll be where._ This resulted in exemplary service on Merlin's part, and surprise on Arthur's. Over the course of the rest of the afternoon, Merlin had the impression that this was becoming something of a game on Arthur's part; the prince would try to get Merlin alone and watch him go to amusing lengths to dodge. It was uncomfortable and frightening, and underneath it, annoying. _I'm a mouse,_ thought Merlin, _being stalked by a big and surprisingly patient cat._ He groaned inwardly. _I have new sympathy for the mice living in the castle..._

Merlin was especially glad, late that afternoon, to see the spires of the castle beginning rise above the trees. Not only because he had missed home, but also because Gwaine was now honestly drooping. He'd stopped talking during the last hour, which was never a good sign when Gwaine was involved. Turning his head to once again check that Gwaine wasn't about to fall out of the saddle, he found himself meeting Gaius' worried gaze. "Good job we're almost home," commented Merlin.

"Indeed."

Soon they were clattering into the courtyard and dismounting as the ubiquitous horseboys came running up to attend to their mounts. Arthur was immediately approached by a knight who seemed to have been waiting for them. "Sire," he said, "your presence is urgently requested in the king's chambers as soon as may be. And Gaius, Wallace says to tell you that your services are needed immediately. He's in the king's chambers." _That can't be good,_ thought Merlin. _Wallace is the next best thing to Gaius when you need a healer. I wonder if the king is ill._

After a quick look at Merlin and Gaius' faces, Arthur summoned two strong young manservants and ordered them to help Merlin get Gwaine to Gaius' rooms. The prince waved off Merlin's thanks. "You'd be useless, Merlin. Go see to Gwaine. When he's settled, come find me. Leon, Gaius, with me." With that the prince gestured 'Lead on' to the knight and strode off with Gaius struggling to keep up.

Merlin slung one of Gwaine's arms over his shoulders as one of the servants did the same on the other side. Together they got Gwaine up the stairs and into Gaius' rooms. Merlin lowered him onto the patient bed in the main room and began tugging off his boots, distractedly dismissing his helpers with thanks. As Merlin settled a blanket over him, Gwaine muttered something that Merlin couldn't quite make out. He leaned down, and asked, "What was that, Gwaine?"

The young man's voice was just above a whisper. "Is it safe? 'S Arthur out of sight?"

Merlin laughed aloud. "Yes, it's safe. Did you just make me carry you through the castle for no good reason?"

"Was a good reason. Got you away fr'm Arthur." Gwaine's words were slurred.

"How are you doing really?"

"Sooo tired… Think I'll take a nap. G'night, Merlin."

"Gwaine?"

His friend was asleep.

-o-o-o-o-o-

After watching over Gwaine for a few minutes to be sure he was sleeping peacefully, Merlin made his way up to the king's chambers. The guards at the door must have been expecting him, for they opened the door for him without challenge. The king's chambers had always made Merlin feel small. The furnishings were luxurious, opulent. Heavy ornate furniture, polished to a gleam, lined tapestry-covered walls. The sitting room into which the door opened contained deeply cushioned couches around a carved stone hearth. Nobody was there. Merlin looked left across the room, and found his prince with Gaius and several of the senior advisors clustered around the huge canopied bed in which lay King Uther, still and silent.

Arthur was standing near the foot of the bed, trying to stay near but out of the way as Gaius examined the king. He looked up and, seeing Merlin, gestured that he should enter quietly. Merlin slipped silently to Arthur's side as Geoffrey of Monmouth continued his report to the prince.

The situation, as it turned out, had changed even since Gaius had left. There was a new kind of beast in the vaults. Several of them, in fact. They were described as many-legged, worm-like and ethereal, and seemed to either float or crawl on the air. An attempt had been made to get rid of them, and apparently things had gone very badly indeed.

At first, Geoffrey explained, there had been only one of the creatures. King Uther had ordered that it be exterminated. The king had led a force composed of several knights, himself and his personal guard, and a squad of guardsmen, down into the basements.

Every man who had entered the room with the creature and survived to tell the tale had described a feeling of intense, unreasoning dread that came down on him the moment he crossed the threshold. Each had responded according to his nature. One had fled. A few had frozen in place. The rest, the king among them, had in the manner of men of war everywhere flung themselves on the very source of their fear. Those who engaged the creature had great difficulty, for their weapons failed to harm it. Worse, it seemed to have some sort of stinger in its tail, for when it was attacked, it thrust its tail at its assailant. Uther was among the first to be hit, and the king had collapsed. A retreat was ordered by the Knight-Captain, to defend the king, but even as they were falling back carrying Uther and several others, the creature made a strange sound, and smaller creatures of the same apparent sort began pouring out of the portal.

"As the matter stands now," Geoffrey summed up, "the creatures seemed confined to the area around that one vault. They have made no attempt to come up the stairs, which are currently barricaded and heavily guarded."

"When did this happen?" asked the prince.

"This morning was when the attack was made on the first creature," answered Geoffrey. "We carried the king to his chambers, and summoned Wallace, since Gaius was away."

"Gaius, how is my father?"

Gaius looked up from his task of assessing the king's condition. "Sire, I am unsure. I have applied several tests. The king is not responsive to any test I have tried. He may be deeply unconscious. However, his reflexes are also not responding properly, so it is also possible that he is paralyzed and so cannot indicate his awareness."

"Can you heal him?"

"I will do what I can, Sire. We will begin with supportive care - food, water, and warmth. To do more, I need to know more about the creature that struck him. For that, I will need Geoffrey's help, and probably Merlin's as well. We have quite a bit of research ahead of us. Wallace, I'll need your help to provide care for the king. And you said there were other victims?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Hours later they were still at it. Wallace had been tasked with the care of the afflicted so that the research could be completed with all possible speed. Geoffrey had recruited several boys to pull books from his library on mythical or rare creatures. Gaius and Merlin had done the same with Gaius' collections. The fruits of their labor were stacked and piled on every available surface in the king's sitting room, for Gaius felt it necessary to be available in case the king awakened or took a turn for the worse.

The only relevant books that had not been brought up to the king's chambers were the ones that could get them all killed, so Merlin was in his own little room above Gaius' workroom, sequestered with those books. He'd opened his door halfway, however, so that he could hear a knock at the barred outer door or any sign of Gwaine awakening. Turning a page after reading the account of yet another traveller who had encountered yet another creature that was not their quarry, Merlin heard a rustling in the room below. He stopped and listened. No further sounds came from below. _Gwaine must have turned over in his sleep._

It was then that it occured to Merlin that Emily's scrolls might have useful information. If these creatures came out of the portal, then the portal lore might mention them. In fact, Emily had even mentioned that strange things happened near portals that failed and opened. He rose from his chair, intending to retrieve his pack from downstairs where the servants had left it, and glanced out the window. The sun was very low in the sky, judging by the long shadows cast by the towers of the keep. Drawn by the beauty of the blue sky and sunlight, he walked over to the window and looked out. Below him, the market square in town was clearing out as the merchants began packing up and heading home for the evening. _This isn't getting me any closer to finding out what these creatures are._ He was about to turn away from the window when suddenly his shoulders were grabbed roughly and an inarticulate and equally sudden shout filled his ears. He ripped free and spun to face his assailant, preparing to blast him into next week, only to see Gwaine grinning at him.

"Gwaine, you idiot! I almost smashed you into that wall!"

"You should have seen your face, Merlin. And you jumped like a goosed cat!"

Merlin took a moment to study the grinning buffoon standing before him. Gwaine looked better for his nap, but was still pale. The blue circles under his eyes were still there. _Gwaine's better than he was, but he's still in need of rest._

"Here, you can help me. There's a weird creature in the vault, and we're trying to figure out what it is. I want the chair, you can have the bed. We've got a lot of reading to do." As Merlin spoke, Gwaine was looking around the room in dismay.

"You're going to read all of these?"

"We are. Are you hungry?"

"I'm considering eating my boots."

"Then you sit down, pick a book - I've done those over there - and get started. I'll be back in a minute with food."

Merlin darted down the short flight of stairs to the lower level of the apartment. He grabbed his pack as well as two apples, a chunk of cheese, and a loaf of journey-bread from Gaius' pack. By the time he had scooted back upstairs, Gwaine had taken a seat on the edge of the bed and was still looking at the piles of books with trepidation. He looked up at Merlin.

"We have to read all these?"

"Well, we can skim." He handed Gwaine an apple, and a share of the bread and cheese. "Here's what we're looking for…"

-o-o-o-o-o-

As Merlin had hoped, Gwaine ate and then fell asleep in Merlin's bed, face down in a book. Merlin eased the book out from under his friend's face before he drooled on it and then returned to his chair to continue reading through the papers Emily had sent with him regarding portals. She'd said it was "all the lore we have regarding portals" and if so, Merlin was prepared to say they'd known quite a lot. The sheaf of papers was thick, and both sides of every page were covered almost edge to edge with tiny handwritten lines, punctuated occasionally with drawings when the matter could not easily be described. He'd read the front of the sixth page and had turned it over to begin on the back when he stopped dead. Before him was a meticulous drawing of a worm-like creature. It looked like one of the flat, many legged things that fled like lightning across the floor when he lit a candle at night. The caption read, "Woden's Wyrm - frequently found near faulty portals". He skimmed the written material. It matched. This was the creature! Merlin grabbed that page and the two next pages, slid them into a larger book for camouflage, and after taking one quick monitory look at Gwaine, ran from the room. _I've got to show Gaius. Now we know what this thing is._

 ** _Thanks for sticking with me! Special thanks to you wonderful folks who review so often: coychayqui, mersan123, gingeraffealene, lollypops101, laorart, and a couple (I think) of guests - your reviews mean the world to me. And to the guest who reviewed on April 14th - you've given me the greatest compliment a writer can receive. Thank you!_**

 ** _Also thanks to trekmel who helped me whip this into shape. And trekmel, I stand ready to duck the flying shoes..._**


	17. Chapter 17 - Wyrms

**Arthur and his party have arrived in Camelot, to find the king stricken and some sort of crawly creature infesting the vaults. In the material given to Merlin by Emily, Merlin has just discovered what exactly these are. It's time to make a plan to remove them.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 17 – Wyrms

"Sire, it appears that the Woden's Wyrms aren't really our problem. They're a symptom of the problem we've had all along. It all comes back to the portal gone awry in the vault." Merlin, listening to Gaius' briefing, was standing quietly behind Arthur's chair. He surveyed the faces at the table; Gaius' calm expression, Geoffrey's concerned one, and the carefully expressionless face of Leon, who, along with the prince, was hearing all of this for the first time. The old physician, having read through the information with Merlin and Geoffrey, had come to the conclusion that Arthur needed to know the full extent of the problem, magic-related or not. "The wyrms are just simple creatures," he continued, "drawn to the energies produced by faulty portals. You see, sire, portals create a controlled tear in the fabric of the world. Ordinarily this tear is brief and heals when the portal closes. Unfortunately for us, in this case, the portal didn't close, so the rift can't heal. And energy from the broken portal is seeping through the tear. The wyrms feed on the energy, inadvertently enlarging the tear."

Arthur, to Merlin's eye, was looking somewhat at a loss under the veneer of calm and confidence. _No wonder. You can't fix this with a diplomat, a gang of laborers or even an army. Only magic will do him any good._

Gaius went on with his explanation. "According to these writings, the feeling of dread that all who have approached the wyrms have experienced isn't actually coming from the wyrms at all. It's a result of exposure to the unnatural energies coming through the tear. As the tear expands, so will the area affected by the fearfulness. Can you imagine what would happen if it expanded enough to reach the town?"

Merlin could easily imagine it. Earlier, he'd slipped away from Arthur and gone down to the entrance to the vaults. Even standing near the doorway, for that had been as far as the guards would permit him to go, he had been gripped with fear so intense he'd thought his heart would pound its way out of his chest. He must have gone white, for one of the guards had reached over and awkwardly patted his arm. "It gets a bit better after a while," the man had said. _I came close to panicking, and I knew what to expect._ The thought of the whole town being exposed to that unreasoning terror chilled him through and through. _The town would tear itself apart in panic._

"Can we close the portal by destroying the symbols?" Arthur was asking. "The wolf's marring of the symbols caused the portal to fail to open from the other direction."

"I believe not, sire." The old physician was speaking carefully. "This information suggests that once a portal has fallen open in this way, an adept-class mage, as they describe it, is needed to force the portal closed."

"An adept-class mage."

Gaius exchanged glances with Geoffrey. "We don't know exactly what that means. Presumably a highly trained or powerful sorcerer."

"Emrys."

Merlin flinched and tried to cover the movement by rubbing his forehead. The prince's glance pinned Merlin in place briefly before sliding to Geoffrey and Leon. His lips tightened briefly before he turned back to address Gaius.

"We need Emrys, Gaius. According to the druids, he's as strong a sorcerer as we have. I know you were in contact with the druids. Can you contact Emrys?"

Merlin's stomach churned. He was sure that Arthur was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

Gaius' eyes had widened, but he managed to maintain his aplomb. He responded. "I believe so, sire. I will try."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin had his face buried in the crook of his elbow. The wood of Gaius' table, smoothed by years of use, felt cool under his wrists. Gaius had excused the two of them politely and all but shoved Merlin out the door of the king's sitting room, the book with its precious papers tucked under his arm. The old physician said nothing on their way down to Gaius' chambers where Merlin had sunk down at the table. After a series of soft scrapes and thuds that suggested the door being closed and barred, there was the scudding of chair legs as Gaius joined Merlin at the table.

"Arthur knows." The old man's voice was studiously calm.

Merlin nodded with his face still in his arms. Evidently Gaius correctly interpreted the movement, for he responded.

"For how long?"

"Almost two days."

"Have you two talked?"

Merlin shook his head. There was a sound from across the table that seemed to be partially a sigh and partially a reluctant laugh.

"How on earth did you manage _that_? Never mind. Merlin, what is done is done. If he already knows the secret, then he needs to hear _why_ you've done what you have."

Merlin raised his head and stared at Gaius. "You're the one who's always been telling me not to tell him!"

"That was before the prince knew your secret. Now your only protection from the king is that which Prince Arthur can provide. Only he can help you. And he is more likely to do that if he understands why you chose as you did."

"How is that going to help, Gaius? He's still caught between me and his father."

"Talk to him, my boy. I think you will be just as surprised as he will be."

When Merlin did not respond, Gaius changed the subject.

"At any rate, we have tasks to undertake. We need to 'summon' Emrys. And according to this material you brought back, we also need magical weapons if swords are to be of any use. Probably more than one magical weapon. Prince Arthur will certainly want to engage the creatures, despite the broken arm."

"I think I can do that. The thing I did for Lancelot, against the griffin? I think I can make it last longer this time. And if I'm in Emrys form, nobody but Arthur will be suspicious of _me_. And since he's already more than suspicious in my case, no further harm done."

Gaius looked as if he might resume the earlier topic of conversation, so Merlin hurried on. "I show up as Emrys, magic the swords, and we go take on the wyrms." Merlin hesitated. "But I'm not sure I understand how exactly to close the portal. It," pointing to Emily's pages of closely written script, "says the adept can 'see' the energy flow into the portal. But at least so far, I haven't seen anything like that."

"Well, you haven't seen the portal since you left. I guarantee it looks at least a little different now."

-o-o-o-o-o-

It had felt very strange to walk the halls of the castle wearing the shape Merlin had come to call his "Emrys-form". The bespelled talisman given to him by a matriarch among the druids had done its work well, transforming him into a man of middle years, blonde and bearded. Arthur knew him in this form as Emrys, but Merlin had been as honest as he could. He'd told the prince outright on that occasion that Emrys wasn't really who he was.

When he'd entered Arthur's chambers at Gaius' heels, Merlin had found himself the subject of the most intense scrutiny he'd ever experienced. The prince's gaze had searched his eyes, studied every line of his face and body, and cataloged every movement and gesture. Clearly, Arthur was searching for confirmation that this was, somehow, truly Merlin. He hadn't even asked where Merlin was, much to Merlin and Gaius' relief. An obvious outright lie to the prince's face was something different, somehow, from the believable lies that in the past had protected them both.

Under the eyes of the prince, 'Emrys' had worked the spell that pushed magic into the metal of the blades of Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon and his two hand-picked knights. Merlin had been surprised at how much energy it took. The trouble he'd had the first time, enchanting a weapon for Lancelot, hadn't only been his lack of knowledge. _Magical energy just doesn't want to sink into metal_ , Merlin decided. _Good thing he only asked for five enchanted blades. I'm not sure how many more I could have done._ When the spell had run its course, Arthur gestured toward the swords.

"It's done?" His hand hovered above the hilt of his blade as subtle blue fire licked over the blade.

"Yes, sire."

"Then let us go down to the vaults and see what can be done."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin could feel the fear beginning to build well before reaching the barricade. His guts turned to ice as the door to the corridor opened. The guards at the barricade were holding it together under the onslaught of terror, but just barely. Their skin glistened with the sweat of fear, and their faces had a look of grim self-control so intense that they almost looked blank.

Merlin looked at his companions. Every face was white. Leon was wide-eyed and tense, looking all around for a threat. Gwaine's lip was curled into a snarl, and his sword was out and ready. Arthur - Merlin shuddered - looked like a statue. Or a corpse. His face was completely, utterly, still and cold, as if no emotion could touch him. It was the face from Merlin's nightmare.

Arthur's voice was as cold as his face. "Keep watch here," he said to the barricade guards. "Listen for my call, and be ready to support our retreat if needed." He led the way down the stairs that led to the lower levels and the vaults.

Down the stairs the fear continued to build. Merlin could feel his hands shaking. By the time they had reached the door to the vault, Merlin was beginning to feel as if his knees were turning to water. When his turn came to step through the doorway, a shiver ran through him. There were creatures - the wyrms - everywhere. They were almost transparent, with a red glowing line running the length of their flattish bodies on either side from red eyes to pointed tail. A faintly glowing brush of bluish bristles outlined and defined the creature's bodies. The smallest were as long as Merlin's arm; the biggest one was enormous, twice as long as Arthur was tall. It seemed more substantial than the others, somehow. The red tracery showed undulating segments as it moved, and the bristles glowed more clearly.

Something about the wyrms' positions and movements was tickling at the back of Merlin's mind, the thought pushing its way through the fear. Some seemed to be crawling across the air nearly a foot _above_ the floor. Others were creeping sideways in midair at right angles to the floor. As Merlin was watching, another one suddenly turned upward, for all the world as if it had reached a wall. It crawled vertically for a foot or so, then executed a u-shaped turn, head over heels, to creep back down. Several of the creatures were lined up side by side on the wall near the portal, busily doing something that Merlin couldn't quite detect.

As the prince's party entered the room, most of the wyrms paused briefly in their activity. Faint red eyes peered curiously and barely-seen mandibles waved. When nothing happened immediately, however, they seemed to return to their pursuits, ignoring the intruders. The largest wyrm, however, did not. It changed course and approached Arthur, who shifted to watch it, and ordered in clipped tones, "Advance toward the portal. Protect Emrys."

Leon ordered his men to surround 'Emrys' and as Gwaine and Arthur fell in around Merlin as well, they began moving slowly across the room, avoiding the tables and stacks of items in the vault. Merlin was about to reach out to the portal with his senses when that biggest wyrm began to circle them at just below knee level, body undulating and mandibles clicking softly. As it passed Arthur the prince turned his sword, setting it between the wyrm and himself. The creature reached out toward it, then pulled back hastily. It continued around the group. Gwaine, next to Arthur, snarled and reared back as it approached him. Only Arthur's quick spin and block stopped him from attacking the creature.

"Wait, Gwaine. They don't seem to know we're a threat. Play for time; time for Emrys to do his work."

Only after minutely inspecting the knees of his trousers did the creature pass Gwaine by. Merlin's heart felt as though it were racing faster than it could bear, between the fear that radiated from the portal and the presence of the enormous wyrm. Arthur kept an elbow in the way of Gwaine's sword arm until it passed, then returned to a guard position left handed. The huge wyrm moved on to the first of the knights. The man held firm, and after investigating him for a moment, it continued past.

When the wyrm neared Leon, it made a ninety degree turn upwards and crawled up to the level of the man's eyes. It quested out toward his face, mandibles opening and closing experimentally. Merlin held his breath. Leon leaned back, moving his face away slowly with an expression of revulsion.

After several long seconds, the wyrm turned from Leon and approached the remaining knight. Undone by the combination of the fear and anticipation, the man lost all composure. With a growl, he struck out at the creature, and his blade seemed to bite deep. The creature curled into itself in midair briefly, and then struck back, its stinger taking the knight full in the chest. He dropped, convulsing. The wyrm made a strange, ululating cry that seemed somehow to come from far away.

At the sound, every wyrm in the room froze. Each one turned from what it had been doing. In seconds the group was surrounded at knee level by the creatures, and on the side where Leon was standing, they'd taken to the air.

Merlin slapped shields onto Arthur, then pushed them outward, trying to cover the whole group. The fight going on all around him was strangely quiet; there was no clash of steel on steel, only the harsh breathing, grunts of effort, and occasional curses from the four men surrounding him. Merlin's blades were doing their work. Gwaine had already struck down three of the creatures, and Arthur, even one handed, had a trio of writhing wyrms at his feet as well. Still, the press of the creatures didn't seem to have lessened. Merlin looked up at the portal. More creatures were coming through.

 _You're up, Merlin. Stop getting distracted and get the job done._ He was thinking hard and trying very hard not to panic. Granted, the portal did look different, but that didn't help. Merlin needed to see the energy flowing through the portal. Trusting his companions and the shield to keep the wyrms back, Merlin closed his eyes and extended his senses toward the portal. He could feel - and almost see - a flow of energy coming up from the earth and pouring into the portal. The energy spread out around the ring of symbols. About halfway up, it went wrong, somehow. _But I still can't see_ **how** _it's wrong. How in the world do I fix it?_ Merlin was panicking, stomach churning. _What if I can't figure it out?_

It was all he had time to think before being startled out of his concentration by a strange sensation. It felt like the tiny crackling shocks felt when unfolding a woolen blanket - startling as much as painful - but tenfold stronger. His eyes popped open. A small wyrm was crawling up his leg. He kicked frantically and it fell off, leaving his leg feeling slightly prickly. He looked around. The shield was having no effect on the creatures! They were passing through it without even seeming to notice it. The second of the knights was down, convulsing on the floor and being swarmed by the smallest of the creatures.

"Emrys!" snapped Arthur, hard pressed by one large wyrm and several other smaller ones. "Can you push them back into the portal?"

Merlin tried, but to his horror, the force of his strongest push only nudged them back from Arthur a few inches even while items in the vault behind them went flying backward. It was as if the push went through the wyrm like a breeze through the curtains. He tried again, with similar results. _Maybe I can grab one…_ He reached out and closed his mind and will around a wyrm near Gwaine, but his mental grip sank through the creature, and it escaped him.

"No, sire," he responded on a gasp.

"Then just get the cursed portal closed," came the terse response.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The battle continued unabated. Arthur had called for the guards at the barrier to come help the two downed men, but had ordered them not to engage the creatures if they could help it. Merlin had glimpsed Gaius in the hallway as the two men were dragged from the room, but most of his attention was on the portal. He'd tried everything he could think of, and nothing had worked. His guts were ice and his mind wanted to just run away and hide.

Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon had found a rhythm that was working, and together they were taking out the worms nearly as fast as they were coming through the portal. That couldn't last. Even as thought occurred to Merlin, Gwaine had to jerk aside to avoid the stinger of a particularly large wyrm. The creature slid past Gwaine and tried to pass Merlin to come at the prince from behind. Even as Merlin shouted a warning, he knew it wouldn't help. The prince had nowhere to go, with creatures fore and aft. Merlin frantically tried to push, grab, blast, anything, sending items flying all over the vault. The stinger was coming around. Time slowed down, but there was still no way for Merlin to help his prince. Except one. Merlin flung himself between that wretched stinger and Arthur's leg.

The stinger went clear through his leg and with that sharp pain came an enormous impact that shook him inside and out. It was as if he had been thrown across the room and collided with a wall, all without moving an inch. Arthur's and Gwaine's swords both swung down, slaying the creature, and as Merlin's gaze followed them, he found himself staring dumbfounded in shock, first downward, then all around.

His 'Emrys-form' lay thrashing at his feet, but seemed unreal and transparent. Gwaine and Arthur looked ethereal, as did the contents and walls of the vault. Merlin could now see the reason for the strange movement of the wyrms. They were actually walking on floors and climbing up walls, but walls and floors that were - elsewhere. He was standing in the same place he had been, but the walls and floor had moved. The floor was several inches higher, and the rough stone walls around him were that of a partially fallen stone maze. As Merlin watched, a thoroughly solid-looking brownish wyrm scuttled across the floor, up a wall that had been invisible a moment before, through a gap, and down the other side. That was the strange mid-air turn Merlin had seen only minutes before.

Then Merlin turned to look at the portal. Now he could see the energies flowing. Magic surged along the ground in rivers, up the wall, and into the portal. In the bottom half of the portal's rim, the energies were beautiful; an opalescent tracery of elegant patterns winding around one another like ivy. The energy climbed the portal, magical energy concentrating in those delicate lines. Most of the top half of the portal, however, was entirely different. The patterns had degenerated into chaos. Energy crackled and sparked. It hurt Merlin's eyes to even look at it. Lines of crackling power spread outward from the damaged areas into the wall in which the portal was set, forming what appeared to be a gaping crack in which the energy pooled. That had been where the wyrms had lined up. They must have been feeding off the energy and enlarging the crack.

Merlin stepped away from Emrys' convulsing form, out of the circle of protection formed by his friends. As he did so, Arthur's gaze followed him. _He can see me!_ The prince's eyebrows flicked upwards in recognition as his eyes went from Merlin to the writhing form at his feet. Gwaine met his eyes with an encouraging smile.

 _Now I understand,_ thought Merlin, turning to examine portal. _Now I can see it. Those little lines of energy - I could fix them…_ He reached with a hand, nudged with his thoughts, and one tiny pathway settled back into place on the portal. A tiny portion of the circle was healed. _I can fix the portal!_ But looking again, Merlin realized that such an effort would take hours. _Too slow. I need to close it now._

On closer inspection, at the base of the portal, there was a node through which all the energy flowed. _If I can stop the energy flowing through there, the portal won't have the energy to stay open. It should close._

A wyrm approached Merlin and he reflexively _pushed_ it away, only remembering as he did so that it was unlikely to work. To his surprise, the wyrm was blown away from him, smacking quite solidly into a previously invisible wall. Merlin stared for a moment, and then felt exultation fill him, pushing back the fear. _Maybe because I'm in their own world? Finally! Now I can do something!_

He dashed to the far side of the room, discovering on the way there that it was still possible to trip over items in the vault even though they looked insubstantial, and began pushing, blasting, herding the creatures away from his friends and toward the portal. Some of them fled into the portal of their own accord, but many of the biggest ones instead attacked him. Moments later, Arthur and Gwaine were standing shoulder to shoulder before him, guarding him as he worked. It took the discovery of how to make a mental 'net' of will, but soon the last of the wriggling, protesting Woden's Wyrms had been shoved through the portal.

Holding the net of his will over the opening, Merlin turned his mind toward that node of power at the base of the portal where the energy entered. About to clamp down on it, he hesitated. _I don't know what will happen when I close the portal. I can't leave it like this._ He looked at Arthur, who had turned to look at him questioningly. He stepped around the prince and crossed the room to crouch by the body - his Emrys-form - on the floor under Leon's restraining hands. Reaching down to touch the talisman, he silently spoke the spell. Emrys melted away, and his own body lay there. He looked up at Arthur, who had followed him.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I never wanted to lie to you. I just...I just couldn't see any other way."

The prince said nothing. His face, still cold and expressionless from the fear radiating from the portal, told Merlin nothing. The young warlock turned his attention back to the node at the base of the portal. Clamping down, he refused the energy passage into the portal. The symbols flickered, and the lines of power retreated slowly, emptying first from the gash in the wall then down the sides of the portal. When the last tiny line had gone dark, the oily silver surface of the the portal's opening finally reverted back to ordinary stone. Closed. The fear went away suddenly and thoroughly, leaving Merlin feeling limp but exhilarated. Behind him he heard sighs as his companions were released as well.

Merlin turned away from the portal and realized that he had one last problem. _Wait. How exactly do I get back into my own body?_

Arthur shouted for Gaius, and the old physician scrambled into the room as fast as his elderly hips could manage. He sank down creakily next to Merlin's physical body, which had stopped convulsing. His hasty search for signs of life yielded results immediately, and most of the tension drained from him.

"He's alive, sire. What happened?"

Arthur explained concisely as Gwaine looked around the room. His gaze passed over Merlin without appearing to see him at all.

"I don't see him anymore," he said to the room in general. Arthur looked around.

"Neither do I."

"I'm here, Gaius." Nobody responded. Gaius spoke over him.

"Merlin? Can you hear me?"

Again Merlin responded, but clearly Gaius could neither see nor hear him. After waiting for a moment, looking all around, the old man theorized, "He must have been pushed out of his own body by the unnatural energies of the portal. Now he needs to find his way back. We can't see him because we no longer have the portal's energy illuminating him."

Gaius lifted his head and spoke to the room at large. "Merlin, you still have a connection to your body. Look for a cord or line. You should be able to follow it back to us."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Merlin. Remember the cavern. Emily showed you how. You can do it." He nudged Leon out of the way and dropped to his knees next to Merlin's limp form. Carefully he lifted Merlin's shoulders, struggling a bit to do it one handed. Leon leaned forward and assisted him. "Think of…" The prince stopped there and then rephrased, "Think your way back." He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Merlin knew what he was doing: thinking, as he had in the caves, of what he knew of Merlin.

Merlin was touched. Perhaps he'd been forgiven? But the prince didn't quite have it right. In this case, it wasn't Arthur he needed to think of. It was himself; not his spirit but his body. He sank down into himself, looking for the line.

What does it feel like to be me right now? _Bruised knee from crashing into that box over there. Shaky body from a recent fright. One prickly leg from the little worm that crawled on me. One sore leg from getting stung. Hair tickling my forehead._ He was starting to panic. The line was nowhere to be found. _Keep trying. What else?_ He looked over at the group clustered around his body. Gaius was checking his pulse again, and Gwaine had picked up one of Merlin's hands. _A rough thumb rubbing over the back of my hand. Cool fingers pressing against my throat._ The line was there and Merlin grabbed onto it. _Arthur's strong arm behind my head and shoulders. The sound of his heartbeat in my ear._ The line tightened and began pulling him in. From across the room he heard, in the quiet, "Come on, Merlin. Come home." Then the last few words were soft in his ears and he was back in his body, feeling Arthur's chin resting on his hair and the prince's arm trembling under him.

Merlin opened his eyes and tried to sit up. He failed spectacularly and his body rewarded him with renewed spasms. It didn't matter. He was home.

 **Author's note: Apologies for the longer than usual delay - this school year is trying to kill me. Hope you like the chapter! If anybody sees any logic holes, please pm me - this one was hard to write! Many thanks to trekmel for checking it over, and to all of you wonderful people who read and reviewed - as always, you made my day!**


	18. Chapter 18 - Loyalty

**The prince has been saved (again), the wyrms have been sent home and the portal is closed. But choices have consequences, and Merlin's choices have come home to roost.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 18 – Loyalty

Merlin found himself dismayed at how much it hurt to be back in his own body. Every muscle he had was cramping. His chest and throat were painfully tight, making breathing difficult. His body was twitching and spasming beyond his control, triggering additional pain in his right calf where it felt as though it had been impaled by a spear. Past the pain, he could hear Gaius' voice.

"Sire, if you would, please lay him flat. Merlin, can you hear me?"

Arthur, with Gwaine's help, began shifting to lay him down. Merlin could barely get a single word out around the spasms affecting his throat and jaw. "Yes." He caught a surprised look on the old physician's face.

"Good, my lad, good. Just rest for a moment and let me look at you. Gwaine, Sir Leon, help me, please. Press down on his legs - carefully, watch the injury - like this. We'll see if pressure on the muscles can reduce the spasms." Merlin felt strong hands pressing into the thick pads of muscle just above his knees, and the spasms in his legs did ease a bit. "Sire, if you'll do as I do. Stretch out his arm and apply pressure into the muscle, like so," and Merlin's arms were straightened and held firmly. Gaius continued his instructions. "Merlin, relax as much as you can. Try taking a deep breath. Now hold it - hold it - and let it go slowly. Again."

Arthur interjected, "Gaius, what is it? What's wrong with him? Is it poison? A fit?"

Gaius gave the prince fondly exasperated look. "I will know more, sire, when I've had a moment to examine him." He turned his attention back to Merlin, gently poking and prodding. "But it's not a fit, not in the usual sense, at any rate. He wouldn't be able to hear and respond. Poison is a possibility. Everyone else who was stung went into convulsions and then lapsed into unconsciousness." The eyebrow quirked up, and an unwilling smile crossed his wrinkled face. "Except for you, Merlin. You just _had_ to do it differently."

Over a few minutes, the worst of the spasms receded, only to return again as soon as Merlin tried to move. Again Gwaine and Leon pinned his legs. "Knead the muscle with the heel of your hand as you apply pressure," Gaius instructed them. "Sire, if you would get that arm again..." When the prince complied, Gaius resumed his instructions to Merlin. "Stay still and breathe slowly. Your movements are triggering this, Merlin. If you relax, the spasms will subside. Lie still and breathe." Again, bit by bit the cramping and spasms eased.

Gaius called for the stretcher, and when the guards brought it, ordered, "Merlin, lie still. Don't try to help us. We're going to lift you on to the stretcher and carry you upstairs."

While Gwaine and Leon eased Merlin onto the stretcher, Arthur climbed to his feet, called the guards, and began firing orders. "Gwaine, stay with Merlin. Gaius, please alert me if there is any change in his condition. You men, carry Merlin up to Gaius' chambers. Leon, with me." He turned to stride from the room, but turned back. He waited until the men carrying Merlin came alongside him. He reached down and set a hand firmly on Merlin's shoulder. "Merlin. Stay in Gaius' chambers. I have some things to take care of, but I will check on you later." He leveled a stern look at Merlin. "We appear to have much to discuss."

-o-o-o-o-o-

By the slant of the sun, it was late morning when Merlin awoke. He remembered being carried up the stairs - a nerve-racking experience through which Merlin tried hard not to move, not wanting to trigger convulsions right there on the stairs - and through the castle to Gaius' chambers. Gaius had given him a potion to drink which, though the old physician described it as a strong muscle relaxant, must have also contained a sedative, for Merlin had fallen deeply asleep soon after choking down the bitter concoction.

Tentatively, Merlin lifted his head to look around him. His neck and facial muscles felt sore and tired, but they responded properly. His lower leg was bandaged neatly and propped up on an unfamiliar pillow. The chair by Merlin's bed was empty, but his table contained the remnants of a breakfast tray. His window was open to the summer breezes. His windowsill was - occupied. Gwaine was sitting _in_ the high window, straddling the sill. He appeared to be engrossed in dropping something, Merlin couldn't quite tell what, on unsuspecting passers-by below.

Merlin took a deep breath and tried to sit up. He failed, though somewhat less spectacularly than he had down in the vault. While there were no cramps and spasms, his arms and legs proved to be not entirely under his control. His legs didn't respond at all, and his arms moved in such a jerky and uncoordinated fashion that Merlin was not able to lift himself to a seated position.

The attempt caught Gwaine's attention, and he pulled his leg back into the room and jumped down from the windowsill, landing cat-like. Now Merlin could see in his hand the loaf of bread from which chunks had been pulled for ammunition. Merlin couldn't help but smile, and Gwaine's infectious grin lit the room.

"Welcome back! Gaius said to tell you to stay still and not try to get up. I gather you've discovered that on your own. How do you feel?"

"I feel like a freshly hooked trout. Flopping and stranded. I couldn't get up if my life depended on it. But at least I'm not going into fits every time I try to move." _Am I going to be stuck this way?_ Merlin set aside the worry and changed the subject. "So how many of Camelot's citizens are walking around with breadcrumbs on their heads?" he asked his friend, pointing with his chin in the direction of the mangled bread loaf.

"Not sure. I know I got Mistress Smythe though. She reached up and swatted her bonnet like a there was a bug. It was funny." Gwaine plopped into the chair by Merlin's bed. "Want to hear what's going on? If you promise to lie still and take it easy, I'll fill you in."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Gwaine had stayed until he was chased out by Gaius some hour or so later. According to Gwaine, things had settled down considerably and casualty reports had come in. Two men were dead; one man had died in the first assault on the wyrms after taking a stinger to the neck, and the other was the knight that had taken a stinger full in the chest. Six additional men had been stung, including the king, and all were still unconscious. Wallace and Gaius were doing everything they could for them, but could not awaken them.

Arthur had convened the kings' council and after a session with them had met with each councilman individually. He had rearranged the guard on the vaults, and spent some time at his father's bedside. Gwaine had no idea what had happened since then, for he'd taken his turn on, as he said, "Merlin watch".

Once Gwaine had gone, Gaius examined Merlin again. The physician was pleased, he said, to see that exertion was no longer causing spasms. Joint by joint, he went over Merlin's limbs, asking Merlin to move each one and then moving it for him if he could not. Motor control appeared to be improving, the old man remarked, from his head down. He advised Merlin to rest, told him that someone would be downstairs at all times if he needed something, and took his leave to return to the king.

Merlin spent the next few hours alternating between resting and trying his limbs. Bit by bit, he found that he could use his arms and hands more and more, though they were shaky and he tended to drop things. His legs began to respond again. Encouraged, he attempted to stand. The result was a brief moment of exultation followed by a painful thud as he hit the floor. Seconds later Leon came running through the door, almost tripping over Merlin.

"What happened?" the knight asked. His concern changed to amusement as he took in the scene before him. "Never mind. I see. Let's get you back into bed, shall we? And perhaps this time you'll stay there."

-o-o-o-o-o-

That evening, he heard voices in the room below and then heavy footsteps coming up the stairs to his small room. Arthur gave him one of those unreadable looks, then took a seat on the chair at Merlin's bedside. Merlin gulped, very aware that he was vulnerable. He had no means to dodge this time, no duties to be seen to or messes to take care of. Even simply fleeing was impossible, in fact. His legs still felt disconnected from the rest of him, and attempts to support himself tended to result in random unpleasant muscle twitches followed by a sudden collapse at the knees.

 _And Arthur knows it._ Merlin was visited with sudden certainty. That was Arthur's intent in coming here right now. He was well and truly trapped.

"Merlin. You are Emrys." The tone had changed since the prince had first said it. That first time, it had been a question, truly, asked in a tone of utter disbelief. And now, of course, having seen what he had seen, it was no question at all. "I have _**so many**_ questions."

Merlin felt as if he stood upon the brink of a cliff. The abyss yawned before him and danger crept from behind. He was trapped. His panic must have been clear on his face, for Arthur paused.

"Calm down. I'm not going to turn you over to my father, Merlin. What do you take me for?" The flash of annoyance that crossed the prince's face passed almost immediately. "Merlin, there are so many things I need to know. But before we get to all that, there's something I need to do." Arthur reached into his shirt and pulled out the tiny crystal on its leather cord given to him by Broderick. He shifted to sit on the edge of Merlin's bed and held it up, watching as it swung slowly, facets glinting in the air between them.

Now that there was no longer any possibility of escape, Merlin found the panic receding. So Arthur wanted to see the truth of his words. He pushed down the hurt caused by the knowledge that the prince felt that the crystal was necessary. He was willing and even eager to let Arthur see the truth of his loyalty. He reached for the crystal. _Bless Broderick. I can prove myself to him. At least he'll know he's hearing the truth_.

To Merlin's surprise, Arthur didn't hand him the crystal. Instead, the prince laid it in his own palm, where it began to glow faintly blue. He took a deep breath.

"I heard you, Merlin, the night we stayed in Mari's house. You dreamt that I was watching you burn and I didn't care. Nothing could be further from the truth. I know I don't often say it, Merlin. In fact, I don't believe I ever have said it, so I've come to the conclusion that you may not know it. You are my friend and I care what happens to you. Believe it."

The crystal had glowed steadily blue as the prince spoke. Merlin was paying no attention to it. He had no doubts, most of the time, about the prince's friendship. Only his reaction to Merlin's magic. Clearly, though, Arthur believed he did.

"I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me about," Arthur continued, taking a quick glance at the door, "your magic. Merlin, why? Why didn't you tell me, why have you struggled so hard for the past two days to avoid admitting it even when I already knew?"

Merlin again reached for the crystal. Arthur refused, slipping the cord over his head and tucking the crystal back into his shirt. "Just talk to me, Merlin," he said firmly. "I don't need the crystal to know that you'll tell me the truth." His tone gentled a bit. "Were you so afraid that I'd hand you over to be killed?"

"No. Well, not really." That had never been Merlin's real fear. Even his own death in his dreams had been more about failure than finality. Death on the pyre would mean that he had failed; failed in his destiny, and worse, lost Arthur's trust and friendship.

When Merlin didn't immediately continue, Arthur studied him momentarily, eyes narrowed in puzzlement. Then suddenly realization dawned. "Wait. You unlocked that cell door under Cenred's keep, didn't you?"

Merlin gulped and then nodded.

"Can my father's cells even hold you?"

"Well, no, not if I don't..." He trailed off, suddenly unsure.

"Not if you don't choose to allow it." The prince considered for a moment and then pinned Merlin with his gaze. "Can you get out of shackles?"

Merlin nodded.

"What about ropes?"

Merlin nodded again.

"Then my father couldn't put you on the pyre even if he wanted to." The prince scrubbed a hand over his face. "Then why, Merlin? If it's not death on the pyre, then what are you afraid of?"

Coming from Arthur, that question usually had a cruelly sharp edge to it that cut Merlin to the quick, with the words "You're such a girl," floating behind it. But this time, the edge was carefully turned away. Arthur's tone was nearly gentle.

There was a pregnant silence as Merlin struggled to find the words.

"Merlin."

"It's hard to explain." He paused. "But I guess in the end it comes down to this: telling you would have placed you squarely between me and your father. Caught between friendship and honesty. I didn't want to do that to you. I didn't want you to have to consider keeping secrets from your father. Least of all for me. Or alternately sending me to be executed, all the while wondering if you're doing the right thing. You're a good man, Arthur. There's a reason you're the only one who can bring about Albion. But you won't be able to do it if you're locked in conflict with your father for my sake, and I can't help you do it if I'm on the run. And the prophecy says that only together have we got a chance."

For several long seconds, Arthur simply stared narrow-eyed. Said nothing. Did nothing. Merlin was moments from panicking entirely when the prince suddenly broke from his immobility to scrub a hand over his face. "How in the world do I even begin to respond to that, Merlin? And don't think I didn't notice that you didn't actually answer my question. You still haven't told me what you're afraid of." He paused and then continued.

"All right, then. Back to basics. You're Emrys. You have magic."

"Yes, but those happened in the opposite order. I've always had magic. I've only begun to realize that I'm Emrys. I'm not even sure what that means yet."

"How can you have always had magic? Aren't people taught magic?"

"My mother says I was doing magic in the cradle. It's not usually that way. I'm strange even for a sorcerer, apparently. But I think the ability to use magic is probably like the ability to sing in key. It can only be taught if the innate ability is already there."

"All right. So you've always had magic. What can you do?"

"As Broderick said, 'How do I answer that question?' I don't really know. Lots of things. Except for healing. I'm no good at healing. But most of the time it seems that the only thing limiting what I can do is what I know is possible." He lowered his voice. "It's a little scary. And when druids realize that I'm Emrys, they expect that I can do anything - anything at all - but I'm just me. I'm just Merlin."

He heard Arthur sigh, and realized that he'd closed his own eyes, as if he could somehow hide from that thought. He opened them, and caught a worried look on Arthur's face. When the prince saw him looking it disappeared, but Merlin knew what he'd seen.

He spoke gently. "Arthur, what is it? What's wrong?"

The response came slowly, as if Arthur were fighting with himself, part of him unwilling to ask the question.

"Merlin, knowing that you're Emrys - the Emrys who defended me from Morgause - and knowing that some of the magic I saw in Cygnonnen was yours - maybe a lot of it was yours - and hearing what you just said, I have to ask myself, 'Why, with all that magic, all that power, are you my servant?'" Unspoken but clear in his expression were the ugly thoughts, _Have I been a fool? Have you been using me somehow? What do you want of me that you would so humble yourself?_

Merlin was appalled. It hadn't occurred to him that Arthur might doubt his loyalty precisely because of his power. The prince had doubted his capabilities, yes, but never his loyalty. He'd seen Merlin as a clumsy servant and a hopeless warrior and had doubted that he had the ability to be more than he appeared. Never, until now, now that he knew Merlin could be more, had loyalty ever been a question.

Remembering how Broderick had shared his feelings about Gianna's rescue, mind-to-mind, and sure in that moment that Arthur needed to know, to be certain, what Merlin felt, Merlin reached for that sense of communion that was far beyond speech. He reached out to Arthur with his mind, and met his prince's gaze with his own. Arthur's eyes widened - Merlin's eyes must have flashed yellow - and Merlin's questing met a barrier. Not so strong and high that he could not have breached it easily enough, but still, a barrier of Arthur's making.

Merlin paused. "Arthur," he said softly. "Please. Let me show you. I promise you, I will do you no harm. I would give my life for you." He raised an uncooperative, shaking hand, palm outward. _Arthur has no magic. Hopefully touch will strengthen the connection. Please, please let this work._ "Match your hand with mine and let me show you."

Suspicion warred with trust in Arthur's face. Slowly he raised his hand.

Paused.

Touched.

A connection sprang to life between them, and into that connection Merlin poured all his thoughts, all his feelings, all his hopes. The intense loyalty he felt toward the prince with such love for his people, such determination to be a good leader for them. The respect he had for Arthur's strength of will and the willingness to do what was right even at great personal cost. The hope for himself, for others like him, and for Camelot itself that under this man's hand could become a light for the world to see. The fear that one misstep, one mistake on Merlin's part could destroy the fragile hope that prophecy offered. The fear that the magic that was so much a part of him could cost him Arthur's trust and friendship. And finally, the love that Merlin felt for his friend which felt more like the love for a brother. It all flowed toward Arthur in one enormous wave.

 _Arthur, my friend,_ he tried to send the words through the connection, _I will stand beside you to gates of Avalon and beyond them. Not only for the hope that you represent but for you yourself. I am yours, always and forever._

Arthur swayed under the intensity of it, the onslaught of raw emotion. Through the link Merlin could feel his response. At first it was only astonishment, vast astonishment, verging on awe. Then repaired trust as deep as the sea. Brotherly love. Chagrin. Then, faintly, words. _I'm sorry, Merlin. I shouldn't have doubted you, not even for a moment._ The balance of the spell shifted, and understanding and love flowed both ways. Forgiveness for lies and understanding of the desperation that elicited them. Forgiveness for cutting comments and the understanding that none of them were meant. Arthur's resolution to give Merlin more credit in the future rang in Merlin's mind, and Merlin's intention to trust Arthur flowed through to the prince. Merlin could have balanced there forever, awash in that exchange of trust and affection, but he could feel Arthur's growing discomfort. The prince wasn't fully at ease with this level of openness. He could feel the prince pull back a little. Then Arthur's words were clear in his head, filled with warmth and humor. _We've been quite the pair of idiots, haven't we?_

"No, I'm the idiot, remember? You're the prat." Merlin didn't realize he'd said it aloud until he saw Arthur smile wryly in response, eyes bright with blinked-back tears. The prince had shifted to set Merlin's hand between his two - the hand sign of offering and accepting fealty. Merlin didn't know if it had been intentional, but hoped that it was.

The problems weren't solved. No decisions had been made. But now Merlin knew that his prince knew his heart and whatever came, they could face it together.

 **Author's note: Emotions are hard for me to write, so this chapter was a struggle. What do you think? Does it work? Is there a realization that would make this more satisfying? Let me know!**


	19. Chapter 19 - Question

**The conversation that Merlin so dreaded has come to pass. Arthur seems to be recovering from the shock of finding out exactly how much he means to Merlin. However, Merlin has some recovering of his own to do.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 19 – Question

"You did _what_?" That rhetorical question became a common refrain over the first few days after the battle with the wyrms.

Gwen said it first, but only once, and the tone was soft with belated worry. She had put two and two together after hearing the story of Emrys in the vaults and then discovering Merlin in Gaius' quarters half paralyzed with his leg bandaged. She had then made the leap to her father's miraculous recovery from a plague that had killed so many others. Upon hearing the full tale, her response was, "You did _what_? Merlin, you shouldn't have risked yourself like that. You could have been caught. Or what if Uther had believed you instead of Arthur? You could have died…" She seemed far less surprised that he was a sorcerer than Merlin expected. The expression on her face made him smother a laugh, however, because he could almost hear the words, "How did I miss that?" She appeared to have no particular qualms about rubbing elbows with a sorcerer. When Merlin hesitantly asked, she explained.

"I suppose if it were anybody but you, Merlin, maybe I might be a little nervous. But you're you. You're, I don't know, just, I know I'm safe with you. I know you won't hurt me. You'll even go to ridiculous lengths to protect me. I just didn't know exactly how dangerous those lengths had been, until now. But I trust you."

Gwaine said the same thing with laughter behind it. The young man had taken to spending his evenings in Giaus' chambers, entertaining Merlin and evidently being entertained as well. He seemed to find these stories hilarious, even the ones he had heard before. Gwaine appeared to take great delight in the thunderstruck looks on the prince's face and so took every opportunity to needle Merlin into telling additional "bedtime stories" as he'd dubbed them, when the prince was present.

Arthur said it several times, in tones of total disbelief. The question "You did _what_?" seemed to be Arthur's response to nearly every story retold with the full details. Lancelot's fight with the griffin. Valiant's shield full of snakes and the missing stone dog that resulted. The lights in Nimhueh's cave. Though Arthur was swamped with duties and quite concerned for his father, he still managed to stop by several times, each time with a request that began with, "Tell me about the day when..." At the conclusion of each story, Arthur would take his leave with a bemused look. Clearly the prince was reworking his memories in the light of new information, and experiencing some mental indigestion in the process.

At first, being in the same room with the two young men who were his best friends in the world had been a little like standing between two alpha wolves, both snapping and snarling. Gwaine seemed to think that Merlin needed protecting. When Arthur discovered that Gwaine already knew, he had gritted, "Was I the only one you _didn't_ tell?" Merlin heard the hurt behind the statement. He opened his mouth to respond, but Gwaine beat him to it.

"He didn't tell me, princess. I figured it out and bullied him into admitting it. Which is pretty much what you did."

"My mother told Gaius," added Merlin. "Though I'd already blown it and he'd caught me doing magic before he even read her letter." At Gwaine's raised eyebrows, he explained, "Well, he was falling off a ladder. What was I supposed to do? But in any case, it's you, Gwaine and Gaius. Oh. And Gwen. She guessed this afternoon, and I confirmed it."

The elderly voice from doorway interrupted with those same words.

"You did _what_?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

It took three days of slow improvements, but by the fourth day, Merlin felt ready to return to duty. Arthur greeted his return with a yawn as Merlin laid out his breakfast. "I take it Gaius cleared you for duty."

 _Well, light duty, anyway, but he doesn't need to know that._

"As if you wouldn't have demanded me back, sooner or later." In fact, though, Arthur hadn't demanded his return. Merlin had come of his own volition, uncomfortable at being separated from his prince. He noted that the curtains were already pulled back, but went to the window and flung it wide to admit the cool morning air. That done, he turned to begin his usual morning cleanup, necessitated by the fact that Arthur routinely left his clothing all over the floor. He paused, puzzled. There was no clothing on the floor.

"Did George come through before me?" he asked in surprise.

"I'm perfectly capable of putting my clothing in a basket, Merlin."

"I don't know about that, sire. You never have before."

Merlin had meant it as a joke, but instead an uncomfortable silence developed. He cast a quick glance at the basket he usually used to collect clothing to be washed. Sure enough, the prince's clothes from the day before were piled in it. He looked over at Arthur, trying to judge what was wrong. His friend's expression was troubled, but he didn't seem to be willing to share. _Bide your time_ , thought Merlin. Without further comment, he opened the prince's wardrobe and began sorting out clothing for the day. "You have a council meeting, I understand, and drill with the knights afterwards." He pulled Arthur's best red tunic from the wardrobe and had begun to dig for a pair of trousers that fit well when the tunic was snatched from his hand and flung in a heap across the foot of the bed. Merlin looked up in surprise.

"For heaven's sake, Merlin, I can choose my own clothing. You don't have to..."

 _Ah. And there it is._

"Arthur." Merlin made his tone light. "I'm your servant. It's my job, and my honor, to serve you. Nothing has changed. Or at least, nothing needs to change." Watching the prince's expression, Merlin saw doubt, discomfort. He tried to alleviate it.

"I'm where I want to be, for as long as you will have me. I'm not meant to be a ruler, Arthur. I was destined to serve you, and I am proud to continue to do so. Besides," he continued, "nobody notices a servant. I can protect you - as I always have - and nobody even sees me. It's perfect."

Arthur was watching him with a puzzled expression, but some of the doubt was gone. "Merlin, don't you want people to know that you are more than you seem?"

"I have you, Gaius, Gwaine, and now Gwen. What more could I want? All the people I care most about know. And the fewer the safer, Gaius would say. I'm content." He reached over to give the prince's arm a quick squeeze. "It's fine, Arthur."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

A pause.

"Very well, then. Where are my clothes?"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Four hours later, as Arthur's voice floated across the training field over the usual thumps, shouts, and clashes of metal, Merlin looked around for a place, any place, to sit. He could feel fatigue weighing on him. Three days in bed plus a dose of the wyrms' toxin probably had left him a little weak, he supposed. An unoccupied spot on a fence rail beckoned, and he slipped over and hauled himself up on it. Gaius had warned him that it might take a few more days to recover his strength and had ordered him to ask Arthur to be allowed to go and rest if he felt tired. _I'm not so tired yet that I can't keep going_ , he thought. _I'll see how I feel in an hour or two._

He surveyed the field. Gwaine was training with the knights again, and as usual Arthur was simply choosing not to comment. The king would have objected, Merlin knew, but Uther rarely supervised the knights anyway, and just now it wasn't an issue.

 _Uther. He's still unconscious from being stung by those things. And there are others who were stung. I wonder if I can help them._ Deep down, his thought went on, _Or if I should, in Uther's case_. Merlin winced at the callous thought and pushed it down firmly. _Of course I should. But how?_ He was no healer and he knew it, but his own experience with having been stung suggested an alternate possibility. What if the stricken men had been pushed out of their bodies as he had? Was there a way to retrieve them?

The sounds from the field changed, drawing Merlin's attention. Drill was giving way to sparring, with several matches forming up in various parts of the field. Nearby, Gwaine had been paired with Sir Reginald, which promised to be an interesting fight since it pitted Gwaine's lighting speed against Reginald's cunning use of strength. Further out, Leon had drawn a crowd. He was shaking out his shoulders and had shifted his sword into his left hand, preparing to face an opponent Merlin couldn't quite see for all the bodies in the way. _Fighting left-handed just for the challenge?_

Returning his gaze to Gwaine and Reginald as they squared off and began, Merlin let his thoughts return to their previous course. He recalled the two experiences he had being out of his body. What had drawn him back?

In the first case, back in the cave in Cygnonnen, Emily had done most of it. He'd not really known what, exactly, she'd done. His and Arthur's efforts at maintaining a connection had been what allowed him to tow Arthur along as he was drawn back. _Connection, then. Knowledge of and love for the person being retrieved. But I don't know any of the men well, so I would need someone who does. Wives, maybe. Family. Friends._

In the second case, Merlin had needed to draw himself back. What had allowed it? _I concentrated on physical sensations…_ But replaying the memory in his head, he realized something. _No._ Simple physical sensations hadn't worked. He hadn't been able to find the line until he'd noticed something else. Gwaine's thumb stroking his hand. Gaius' fingers gently pressing on his throat. Arthur's arm supporting him. _Touch. Meaningful physical contact._

Cheering broke out, startling Merlin from his thoughts. He looked up to see Sir Reginald bowing to Gwaine with a surprised look on his face. Apparently Reginald hadn't guessed just how fast Gwaine was. _This'll help, if Arthur ever wants to integrate commoners into the knights_ , thought Merlin. _Most of the knights don't care as much about rank as they do about skill, and Gwaine is proving himself._

As the knot around Gwaine and Reginald broke up, Merlin could see that across the field Leon's match was continuing. Through a gap in the onlookers, Merlin caught a glimpse of Leon's opponent.

Arthur.

 _Clotpole. Broken arm and you still have to spar. How are you even carrying that shield? That explains Leon fighting left-handed. He couldn't exactly refuse, but wanted to even the playing field a little._

Even as he watched, Leon scored a hit on the prince and immediately backed off, bowing and sheathing his blade. There was a scattering of tentative applause, cueing Merlin to hop down from the fence post with a sigh. Even though the leaden sense of tiredness hadn't really eased much with the brief respite, he knew the prince would be wanting him.

Surely enough, moments later, Arthur came stomping through the crowd looking irritable. He dumped his helmet and shield into Merlin's waiting hands and began unbuckling his sword belt.

"Get everything put away and then draw a bath, Merlin. I'll meet you in my chambers. I need to clean up."

Handing over the sword, the prince turned to speak to the knight captain. Merlin shifted the unwieldy armful, using a touch of magic surreptitiously to balance it all, and turned to go. He'd grab the mace and the weighted wooden practice sword from where they lay by the fence, and then head to the armory. Hopefully he could carry it all in one trip and maybe wouldn't have to come back. Then he'd go to the kitchen to get water started heating. _Maybe I can get Gwaine to help me haul the tub up to the prince's chambers,_ he thought as he scooped up the mace. _That thing is a beast._

Absorbed in his thoughts, Merlin had no warning. His legs suddenly spasmed and buckled. With his arms full, he could do little to break his fall, and his efforts to do so sent the weapons and armor tumbling. He missed falling on the vicious studs of the mace by inches but acquired new bruises where his knee collided with the hard-packed earth.

Merlin levered himself up with his arms and tentatively tried his legs. They moved, though they still felt twitchy. A shadow blocked the sun, and he looked around. A hand was reaching down for him, in front of a form silhouetted against the bright sky. Arthur looked him over as he pulled Merlin to his feet.

"Gaius said this might happen if you overdid it."

"I just tripped."

"There wasn't anything there to trip over, Merlin."

"That's never stopped me before."

The humor hit home, Merlin could tell by the small twitch of the Arthur's lips, but the prince remained unconvinced. "Go home and rest, Merlin. Leave these things here, find George and send him to me." When Merlin didn't respond immediately, he ordered, "Now, Merlin."

Reluctantly, Merlin left. His legs, perversely, now felt fine. He found George quickly enough, and was about to turn toward Gaius' chambers, when he changed his mind. _I feel fine, only tired. I'll just help with the bath. Arthur doesn't need to know, and if I don't, it's going to take forever._ He changed course to match his intentions.

The kitchens were, as usual, full of frenetic activity. George hadn't come through to start the water heating yet - he'd probably been sent to collect the arms and armor first - so Merlin went ahead and got the biggest pot onto its hook over the fire and filled. A swift glance around assured him that everyone around him was busy at their own tasks, and he returned his attention to the water in the pot. Extending a hand, he spoke the spell in a whisper. Immediately, the water was steaming. Satisfied, he turned away to wrestle the bathtub out of the corner in which it was stored. He'd gotten it partway to the door when Gwen sailed in at full speed with a tray laden with the remnants of a meal. Merlin's legs chose that moment to twitch in warning just before collapsing entirely.

He'd had just enough warning that he did not drop the tub on his or Gwen's feet, but not enough to avoid falling. Gwen, who'd had no warning at all, squeaked in surprise and concern and dropped the tray in a vain attempt to catch Merlin before he hit the floor. As debris bounced across the floor, Gwen was borne down under Merlin's weight, and they both ended up on the floor.

After a round of awkward apologies and inquiries into one another's well-being, Gwen helped Merlin regain his feet and looked up quizzically into his face.

"Are you sure you're alright, Merlin?"

"You know me, Gwen. I'm always tripping over something!" he said with a smile, doing his best to sound cheerful. "I'm fine. Don't worry!"

"But Merlin…"

"It's okay, Gwen, really. We'd probably better get this stuff picked up, though, before the cook descends with a wooden spoon!"

Distracted from her purpose, Gwen began gathering up the detritus as Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

By the time George arrived to start preparations for the prince's bath, Merlin had things well in hand. Buckets of hot water were lined up, as well as cold water from the well. The yoke for carrying the buckets was laid out and ready, and the tub had been rolled to the foot of the most convenient staircase. George actually cracked a smile.

"Thank you, Merlin!" the servant said in his usual understated way. "Though I thought you said you were going to go lie down."

"I thought I'd get this started for you. You know how Arthur is about his baths. Better hurry!"

George tagged a passing servant to help him carry the tub up, and they disappeared in the direction of Arthur's chambers. Merlin was internally debating between food and rest when distraction personified arrived in the form of Gwaine looking for lunch. The young man frowned - an alien expression on that habitually cheerful countenance - and asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be resting!"

"I was on my way, but I wanted to at least help George with the bath. You know how much work that is."

"Merlin, the idea was that _**you**_ were _**not**_ supposed to be working. To heck with George!"

"George isn't so bad. You just don't like him because he doesn't laugh at your jokes. Besides, now I'm hungry."

Gwaine raked his glance around the kitchen, grabbed Merlin's arm, and steered him to a small table and stool set near one wall. He pushed Merlin down onto the stool. "Sit. Stay. I'll be right back."

Gwaine returned a very short time later with a small feast. He set one heaped plate in front of Merlin and plopped onto the other stool with the remaining plate in his hands. "Eat," he said, gesturing with a roll. "Then you're going to go rest."

Merlin complied. He was hungry enough that the enormous pile of food that Gwaine had brought was gone in record time. Looking up, he saw that his friend had matched him and was stuffing his last bite of chicken into his mouth and rising from his stool. The young man extended a hand to pull Merlin to his feet. "Up. We're going to Gaius."

"Gwaine, I can get there by myself."

"Yes, but will you?" Gwaine eyed Merlin suspiciously.

"I have every intention of going straight home, Gwaine. Falling on my face in front of everyone is not fun. I'd rather not do it again."

"Alright. I'm trusting you here, Merlin." He slapped Merlin on the arm. "Go home, mate. Rest up. I'll come by tonight?"

"Yeah. See you then." Gwaine tipped him a lopsided grin and sauntered off.

When Gwaine had gone, Merlin turned toward Gaius' chambers. About halfway there, he was forced to scrunch to one side of the narrow hallway to make way for one of the youngest of the laundry maids. She was struggling under the unwieldy burden of two enormous stacks of folded laundry in her arms, some of which looked quite familiar. "Merlin!" she said as she came alongside and could see him through a gap in the stacks of clothing. "Thank goodness. I've got to drop these," she indicated one arm's worth, "off in the king's chambers and then pick up the linens to be washed - can you take Prince Arthur's?"

Merlin had automatically reached out for Arthur's stack before he remembered that he really had intended to go and rest. But the little laundry maid was already bustling away with her lightened load, and his objection died in his throat. He shrugged. _I'll just go drop this off. How long can it take?_

It wasn't until he had arrived at Arthur's door that he remembered that it might be better if Arthur didn't see him. So instead of simply entering quietly as he usually would, he knocked. George answered, as Merlin knew he would. Merlin hastily raised a finger to his lips and held out the laundry. George, looking puzzled, said nothing. Nevertheless, he took the clothing from Merlin, who waved and left hastily. Behind him he could hear the door shut quietly. _There. Done. Now I can go rest._

His legs gave under him twice on the walk from the prince's apartments to Gaius'. The first time he was near a bench and simply pretended to have chosen to sit down. Nobody seemed to notice that the move was a bit abrupt. The second time was frustratingly close to his destination; almost within touching distance of Gaius' door. Merlin muttered a curse he'd learned from Gwaine that would have earned him a clout on the head if the old physician had heard it. _I guess I'll just sit here a minute_ , he thought, pulling himself over to the wall where he could lean against the cool stone.

As he did so, the door to the apartments opened, and Gaius himself appeared on the threshold. His gaze fell on his ward sitting on the floor of the hallway and the old man sighed, clearly having gathered exactly what had happened.

"The things you do to yourself, Merlin. Come on, then. Up you get. Let's get you to bed."

-o-o-o-o-o-

By morning Merlin was again feeling perfectly well. He'd felt fine the day before, though, and it hadn't worked out so well. Gaius must have read his worries in his expression, for the old man spoke over their morning porridge.

"Light duty, Merlin, remember? That's what you _didn't_ do yesterday. If you avoid pushing yourself, you'll avoid collapsing. Rest when you begin to feel tired - the prince had even agreed to allow you to come back here to do it, if you'd asked - and you'll be fine."

So Merlin had gone off to work, trying to be mindful of his own energy levels. It wasn't easy; like the day before, there was always one more thing to do. He sat down and rested in between tasks, however, and this seemed to help. By early afternoon he had still gotten quite a bit done despite his breaks. Arthur had been working nonstop all morning, trying to meet both his own obligations and as many of his father's as he could. After lunch the prince had taken both of them back up to his chambers, intending to dig through some of the correspondence that had come for the king's attention. Merlin was happy enough with this. The mopping hadn't gotten done yesterday, after all, and was a task that was quiet enough that Arthur probably wouldn't find it too distracting. Merlin could mop while Arthur worked.

As he turned back to the bucket to refresh his mop, Merlin felt the warning twinge. It was enough to allow Merlin to both aim his fall away from the bucket and also use the mop to slow his descent. It wasn't enough to keep him on his feet, however, and Merlin found himself on the floor again. _At least this time I didn't collect any new bruises._ He looked up to see Arthur watching him silently, an irritated expression on his face.

Without getting up from his desk, the prince spoke. "After that happened on the practice field yesterday, what did I send you to do, Merlin?"

"Rest, sire."

"And did you?"

"Erm," Merlin hesitated.

"Choose your words carefully, Merlin."

"Not right away."

"So I heard. You collapsed in the kitchen, apparently, giving Guinevere quite a fright. Then there was the matter of bathwater prepared, George tells me, and then laundry."

Merlin decided that his legs felt as if they might now consent to holding him and he began working on standing up. If he was going to get dressed down for his admittedly not quite obedient behavior the day before, he would rather do it on his feet. But even with the help of the mop, it was slow and unsteady going. His legs, upon reflection, weren't quite ready.

Seeing his attempt, Arthur sighed and got up from the desk. Coming around it, he strode up to Merlin, lifted him to his feet, and steered him toward a small unused chamber attached to the prince's bedchamber. It was intended to be a bedroom for a servant, Merlin knew, but Arthur had always valued his privacy and independence enough that he had never used it. When they reached the open doorway, Merlin could see that a pallet had been laid out. The prince half led, half carried Merlin to it and unceremoniously dumped him onto the mattress.

"Rest there until I give you leave to get up." He stood looking down at his servant for a moment and then turned to leave.

"Arthur, I'm sorry."

Arthur turned in the doorway. He studied Merlin for a few heartbeats, and then responded. "Apology accepted." The prince stepped back to put his back against the doorframe and slid down it, heedless of his finery, until he was sitting in the doorway with his good arm draped over his bent knees. His gaze swept over Merlin as if trying to assess something. Merlin couldn't stand the silence.

"I did intend to rest, but, well, I kept finding just one more thing that needed doing before I went to lie down. And then the laundry maid had too much to carry…"

Arthur raised a hand to stem Merlin's babbling. "Merlin. You have apologized. You're resting now. The issue is resolved. Though this habit of secrecy is one you're going to have to break, at least with regard to me." Merlin opened his mouth to object, but Arthur refused to allow him to do so. "Your secret has to be kept for now. But I need to know what is happening, if I am going to shield you from discovery by my father." He paused, and then continued on a tangential topic.

"I familiarized the council with my experiences of how magic is managed in Cynonnen, and then interviewed each of the councilmen individually with regard to their view on whether that could work here, if the king could be persuaded to accept it. I'm sorry, Merlin. I don't have enough support yet within the council to even try. And my father-" He suddenly looked both worried and weary.

Merlin spoke gently. "I know."

Arthur was silent for a long minute. "Merlin, if my father wakes up," he swallowed hard and Merlin's heart went out to him. "If my father wakes up, you're going to be in danger."

"I've been in danger from King Uther every day of my life, Arthur. It's hardly a new feeling. Having magic is dangerous. But since I can't make it go away, I use it." He laughed in surprised realization. "Mostly to keep you safe and get my chores done!"

" _You_ would be safer at home in Ealdor."

 _Oh no_. Merlin's guts suddenly went to ice. During his recovery, Arthur hadn't tried to send him home. Merlin had been lulled into thinking that the prince wasn't considering it. Looking back, though, Merlin understood. At first the prince had only been looking back, reconstructing what he knew of the past in the light of this new information. Now Arthur was turning his attention to the future and he wanted to send Merlin home, intending to get him out of harm's way.

"No, Arthur, you can't. Please-" He pushed himself bolt upright, and Arthur, with a surprised frown, hastily crossed the small distance between them, reaching for Merlin's shoulder.

"What in the world? No, stay put. Calm down, Merlin." He scrutinized Merlin's face briefly, and his tone softened. "Talk to me, Merlin. What are you afraid of?"

It was that question again. Arthur had asked what he was afraid of once already, the evening of the fateful conversation. Merlin hadn't answered. Now the question was back.

Because he was so tired, and the tone was so gentle, and because Arthur truly seemed to want to know, Merlin gave him the truth unvarnished. "I'm afraid of losing you. Either because you died when I wasn't there to protect you or because you have decided it's a bad idea to have a sorcerer as a friend."

He heard Arthur's intake of breath then its release in a sigh and the hand on his shoulder squeezed firmly. "Stop that. I can protect myself, and I do not intend to give up my friend, sorcerer or not."

"Then don't send me away! You need me here. Not every threat can be dealt with using a sword or a diplomat. Sometimes the only thing that will help is magic."

" _Fine_ , Merlin. Though you really would be safer."

"I don't want to be _safer_ , Arthur. I want to be _here_."

"Then you will be. Relax. Here, lie down. Get some rest." And the prince dropped a light blanket over him and left him to wonder at how much better he felt as he drifted off to sleep.


	20. Chapter 20 - Possibilities

**Six men are still unconscious from the sting of the Woden's Wyrms in the vault, and one of them is the king. Can Merlin recall their spirits to their bodies? And in Uther's case,** _ **should**_ **he?**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 20 – Possibilities

Merlin was ashamed of himself, if truth be told. He'd been selfish. It had taken four days for him to realize that he might be able to help the victims of the wyrms. Part of him wondered guiltily if, deep down, he'd been avoiding thinking about it too carefully. Merlin knew that the effort could very well place him exactly where he needed to _not_ be: squarely before Uther's dangerous regard.

Now that the thought had occurred to him, it would not leave him alone. Deep in the night, unable to sleep, he found himself staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom and mulling over whether or not it could be done. Suppose the other victims had been pushed out of their bodies just as he had. Emily had facilitated Arthur's rescue from the spirit realm. Merlin had found his own way back into his body after being stung. Didn't that suggest that Merlin could do the same for these folks? Except that in Emily's case, her 'operator' had been a sorcerer. Merlin would be the only magic user involved. Would that make a difference? Could a person with no magic search in the spirit realm? For that matter, could a person with no magic see the cord linking them to their body? Could Merlin see it and use it to pull them in? His thoughts scrambled in circles, for he simply didn't know enough to be sure of anything.

On top of all of that, there was King Uther. If Merlin were to attempt to retrieve Uther, it would be critically important that Merlin be perceived as Emrys, not as himself. In the spirit realm, Arthur had recognized him, even though they could not see one another. Uther probably didn't know Merlin well enough to recognize him as long as he could not see him. Hopefully. But in the wyrms' realm, Arthur had seen him as Merlin, even when his body had still been Emrys. If they could find and retrieve the king, what would Uther see? Would he see Emrys or Merlin?

Uther. Just the thought of trying to wake Uther stirred dread in Merlin's soul, and he curled on his side to stare out the window into the reassuringly clear and starry sky. The king was a danger to so very many people, Merlin among them. In a way, saving Uther was a grave disservice to so many magic users, not to mention any innocents that Uther might catch in his nets. Still, as much as a part of him that was screaming, "Don't do it!" Merlin knew it wasn't really an option. He couldn't do that to Arthur. Though the prince's relationship with his father was often full of friction, Merlin knew that Arthur loved his father. How could any man forgive a friend who refused to even try to save his father?

That thought cut a little too close to the quick. Merlin didn't blame Arthur for the death of his own father. He knew that Arthur would have protected Balinor if he could have. _Only for the sake of his usefulness to Camelot_ , spoke a traitorous part of him. Merlin closed off that line of reasoning firmly. Arthur hadn't known that the man they sought was Merlin's father, only that he was a dragonlord. _I need to save Uther. Not because of who he is, but because of the damage it would do to Arthur to do anything else._

Merlin rolled over and pummelled his pillow into an acceptable configuration. _In the morning I'll ask Gaius. Maybe he can help me figure out the how-to, at least. And maybe the how-not-to-die._

-o-o-o-o-o-

Over breakfast, Merlin broached the topic of reviving the stricken men and discovered that Gaius had been researching that very topic. The keen eyes in the wrinkled face studied Merlin for a moment before the old physician responded.

"There are two questions, really. First, how do we bring them back, and second, how do we arrange things so that your secret can be kept? I've had some thoughts on both of those." Gaius nudged Merlin's neglected bowl toward him and leveled a speaking glance. Once Merlin had picked up his spoon and resumed eating, he continued.

"You've learned how to find and recognize the cord that tethers a person's spirit to his or her body. And we know that with you, once you can perceive something, usually you can act on it. I've learned something about that cord, however, that you need to know. In some ways, it's delicate. Pull too hard on it and it can break."

"Truth to tell, I'm glad I didn't know that when I was searching for Arthur in the spirit realm or towing him out."

"You were both in more danger than you knew. Had Arthur struggled, he could have killed both of you, because if that cord breaks, the owner dies. I think you will most certainly need a trusted family member or friend of the victim to help you in this endeavor. Also, that helper will need to be willing to take your directions as if his or her life depends on them, because it will. But how to make the connection? That I do not know."

"Love and knowledge. And touch." Merlin was sure of it.

"Come again?"

"Love for and knowledge of the person you're searching for makes the connection possible. And for me at least, touch helped me find the cord."

"So then we have it. A loved one who is willing, and physical contact with your helper and with the victim."

"I'm not sure it's going to be that easy. And I'm not even sure where they are going to be. When I was shoved out of my body, I ended up in the realm where the wyrms live. Arthur ended up in the spirit realm."

"Merlin, none of this is easy. But I have faith in you. You'll find a way. You always do." The old man clapped Merlin's shoulder. "Now, I have an idea as to how we might keep your role in all this secret. I suggest starting with Tad. You remember him, I expect. He's the youngest one on the King's Guard, the one with dark brown hair and those startling green eyes. Now, here's what I suggest."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Very late that night, Merlin, in his blonde and bearded Emrys-form, slipped quietly through the castle with Gaius, heading for the stairway that led to Tad's sickroom. The enchanted acorn that enabled the change was tucked into his shirt. Bless Durya for making it, he thought. Having an easy way to change forms was making this all possible. He'd tried to take it a bit easy all day, in preparation for this. _Tonight we try to bring Tad back._

Merlin remembered Tad well. He had met Tad as the guard on duty one afternoon when Merlin had ended up in the stocks again. The young man had joined in the general merriment at seeing Merlin getting peppered with squishily overripe vegetation by the children, but when the young ones had found some relatively sound potatoes in the bin of ammunition, Tad had intervened. "Now then," he said, catching the arm of a strapping lad who was rearing back to fling the biggest of the potatoes, "you'll knock holes in Merlin's head with that." He rummaged gingerly through the remaining ammunition with a gloved hand and came up with another five potatoes.

Scanning the surrounding crowd, Tad's eyes settled on a little girl of about seven. Following his gaze, Merlin could see why the little one had caught the guard's attention. Her clothing, though clean, was sewn of the most inexpensive of fabric and worn to the point of being threadbare and full of patches. Wide grey eyes watched the guard warily as he approached, and the thin face registered alarm. She tried to flee, but was hemmed in by the larger bodies behind her. "Not to worry, little one," the guard reassured as he crouched low to put his face at the level of hers. Tad held out the potatoes. "I think the cook put these in the rubbish bin by mistake. Do you think you could take them home to your mum?" She seemed frozen in place, so he scooped up the corners of her apron to make a pouch and tumbled the roots into it, staggering her slightly. "There now. See? Go show your mother." Tiny hesitant hands accepted the apron corners and Tad patted the back of her head with a gentle gloved hand as he rose to clear a path for her. "Let her through, if you would, madam. And you, sir, that's the way."

Tad returned to the crowd of clamoring children. "Enough of that, you heathens!" he said with a smile for them. "It's not like you've got nothing to pelt poor Merlin with, just nothing actually dangerous. Go on, then." The pelting resumed. Through the hail of vegetables Tad had met Merlin's eyes with a rueful grin. He glanced toward the sky. "Another couple bells, lad, and then you're free. I'll keep watch for more potatoes."

Since that day, Tad had become a familiar face. He'd married sometime last year, Merlin remembered, and his young wife was expecting their first baby. She had stopped by to see Gaius, glowing with joy, a few weeks ago. Merlin could not help but contrast that joyful countenance with the distress on the pale face that turned to look as "Emrys" and Gaius entered the small room where Tad lay.

"This is Emrys, Cathrine, of whom I've spoken," the old physician said quietly. "Emrys, Mistress Cranston and her husband Tad."

Cathrine's voice was tremulous in response as she hurried to ask the question that must have been burning in her mind. "Gaius says you may be able to help Tad?"

"I don't want to mislead you, Mistress Cranston. I believe I can help, but I'm not sure. When I was stung by the creatures that stung Tad, I was forced out of my body. It may be that has happened to Tad. If so, you and I together may be able to lead him back - if you can bear to trust me, and follow my directions as if your life depends on it."

Cathrine's eyes met his piercingly. She seemed to be trying for all she was worth to see into his soul and weigh his sincerity. Merlin tried to put his hopes in the forefront of his mind, hoping she would read them in his eyes.

"Gaius says you are a _sorcerer._ " She whispered the word. "But he says that you want to help."

"I do, truly. By all accounts," _and from what I know of him,_ Merlin added silently, "Tad is a good man and I see," Merlin gestured to the prominent swell of her belly, "he is soon to be a father. No man deserves to be lost forever in the spirit realm, and no child deserves to grow up without a father. So I promise, by all I hold dear, that with your permission I will do my very best to find him and help you bring him home."

Cathrine paused, clearly thinking hard. "But what of the king? Would he - that is, magic is banned -"

Merlin and Gaius exchanged glances. They had prepared for this. Gaius took the lead. "I know. It is a risk, but we have a plan. We think the king's wrath will fall on Emrys alone-"

"-And I intend to be impossible to find-" Merlin interjected.

"If questions are asked we will claim that you were not consulted, which is why we're doing this in the middle of the night, and of course Tad could not give permission. It does not seem that the king could blame either of you. Still, if it seems that you and Tad and the baby are in danger, we will slip you out of the city and help you find a place elsewhere. It's Tad's only hope, Cathrine. We'll lose him if we don't try."

A tear slid down Cathrine's cheek. "I know," she said softly. "I can see it. He looks a little worse each day, paler and thinner and somehow further away."

There was a silence. Merlin, trusting Gaius, did not break it. They waited with bated breath for Cathrine's decision.

"Emrys?"

Merlin looked up to meet a pair of gray eyes swimming with tears.

"Please. Help me. Help _us_."

-o-o-o-o-o-

For the second time in less than two weeks, Merlin found himself in the spirit realm. As the black and frigid wash of it passed through him and bit into him, he shivered. _Why?_ he wondered. _Why did Arthur and Tad end up here and I ended up in the realm inhabited by the wyrms?_ Sternly he drew his own attention back to what he was doing. He dimly knew that his body was seated in a chair across the bed from Cathrine. His hands were occupied; Cathrine's warm hand lay in one of his and Tad's cool one under the other. On the opposite side of the bed, Cathrine had mirrored his position, eyes closed and obediently focused, with Gaius in watchful attendance.

Though his mind had momentarily become distracted, Merlin's magic was already fully engaged and straining. _I'm the rope in a game of tug-of-war,_ he thought with unwilling amusement. Though it had taken some trial and error, he could feel the cords binding Cathrine and himself to their bodies and, now, to one another. There was a strong pull dragging him deeper into the spirit realm as Cathrine quested outward, calling for Tad. There was another smaller force tugging him toward his body. He could feel his spirit stretching to hold the connection to Cathrine as she drew away and at the same time hold the connection to his body that would get them all home.

Merlin was impressed and touched by the strength and depth of the love radiating from Cathrine as she searched. There was so much more to Tad than he'd known, of course, and Cathrine was doing just as Merlin had instructed. She was using every bit of knowledge she had of Tad to search, but also calling him with all the love that was in her. _If anyone can do this, she can_ , he thought. Still, the strain was telling on him, and the icy cold of the spirit realm was settling into his bones. Just as he could feel Cathrine start to wilt a little, tiring, there was an almost audible snap and abruptly, Tad was there.

As the echoes of their ecstatic reunion washed over Merlin, it was as it the weight on the cord tugging him deeper into the spirit realm more than doubled. It was then that Merlin realized just how difficult it was going to be to get them all back. Suddenly he was having to work hard to not be pulled outward further into the freezing blackness. He imagined leaning back, and began struggling his way back toward his body. It was like swimming against the strongest current he'd ever experienced. Or climbing a rope carrying a sack of bricks. A rope… The cord! He 'looked' at the cord connecting him to his body. It was desperately thin and stretched to the breaking point in his mental grip. "Gaius," he managed to croak aloud, "help… He hoped Gaius would gather what it was that he needed. Indeed, moments later one cool dry hand wrapped around the back of Merlin's neck and another was placed over his and Cathrine's clasped hands. The line thickened, strengthened.

Love and touch. Now Merlin could safely begin to pull himself laboriously toward his body, towing Cathrine and Tad. He could feel Cathrine's relief, Tad's curiosity. _Think of one another,_ he said to them through the frozen darkness and silence, _Keep each other in your thoughts and hold tight to each other, while I pull us in._

The journey began. Merlin pulled and pulled, clinging to the cord with all his mind's strength. It seemed to take hours, as the weight dragged on him and the current buffeted him, but bit by bit he prevailed. Closer and closer he crawled, until he could see a faint glow of lantern-light through his own closed eyelids.

 _Okay, step one. We're here._ He could feel Cathrine and Tad wrapped in contemplation of one another, hear the echoes of pleased discoveries as the intimacy of their connection deepened their knowledge of one another. Merlin hated to break in but… _Cathrine, Tad, we need to get you back into your own bodies now. Cathrine, you remember what to do. Tad, you need to think about your body. Feel Cathrine's hand in yours. You know what her hands feel like, the shape and size and warmth. Imagine them, feel them. When you do, you'll see a cord or line. Follow it and you'll be returned to your body._

Merlin shoved his doubts and fears down and waited, watching and hoping. First Cathrine disappeared from his senses, then Tad. He opened his eyes to see Cathrine and Tad opening theirs. Joy and relief soared through Merlin. _We've done it!_ Cathrine immediately shifted to sit on the edge of the bed and threw herself into her husband's arms as best she could with her burgeoning belly in the way. Tad's arms weakly lifted to hold her as Gaius' hands shifted to grip Merlin's shoulders. The old physician's voice was soft in his ears.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Just tired. And really cold. Could I have one of those blankets?"

They'd prepared as much as they possibly could, including preparing for exposure to the bitter cold of the spirit world. At the foot of the bed, Gaius had placed a huge cooking pot. Inside it, there were several heated warming bricks and as many blankets as could fit. Gaius lifted the lid off cauldron, and grabbing a blanket, laid it over Merlin, who couldn't help the sigh that escaped as the warmth enveloped him. Then after giving Merlin's shoulder a squeeze, Gaius approached Cathrine and Tad. Merlin could hear him asking quietly after each one's well-being. He shepherded Cathrine back into her chair, wrapped a blanket around her and laid a warming brick in her lap. "Keep that baby warm, my dear," he instructed. Then he turned to Tad. A quick examination seemed to reassure the physician that all was well, for the smile that met Merlin's gaze was bright with relief. He wrapped the young man in two warmed blankets and banked with him with warming bricks. After encouraging Tad to lie still and rest, Gaius turned back to Cathrine.

"How is the little one?" he asked. "Does he seem to like the warmth?"

"He's awake," Cathrine responded. Merlin could see Gaius' relief and realized belatedly what Gaius' concern had been. The baby could have been affected by what they had just done. "Tad, quick, feel right here! He's kicking." She guided her husband's hand to the appropriate place and Tad's smile lit the room.

" _She_ 's letting you know she's fine," he responded weakly.

" _He's_ just restless and ready to be born."

" _She's_ going to run you ragged." It had the sound of a running joke. Tad squeezed his wife's hand and looked up at Gaius and Merlin. He spoke to both of them, his voice tired but determined. "And it appears I have you two to thank that I will be here to meet her when she arrives." He reached up a hand toward Gaius, who quickly clasped it. Then he looked over at Merlin and a somewhat confused expression crossed his face. "I feel as though I know you, but I don't know your name!"

"This is Emrys, Tad. He's the one that saved you, as it were. I just watched and hoped."

"Emrys. I would say it's nice to meet you, but in a way I have already met you." The young man smiled. "It's so strange. But in any case, I am forever in your debt. Thank you."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The rest of the night had gone off mostly without a hitch. Cathrine was slipped out of the keep and safely home by Gaius, the plan being that she would return in the morning to "discover" that her husband had awakened. Gaius and Merlin, as Emrys, had tidied the room and retired, all without encountering a single soul. In the time it had taken to do those things and get back to Gaius' chambers, Merlin had collapsed at the knees three times. He staggered back to his bed with Gaius' help and fell into it, sinking immediately into exhausted sleep.

In the morning, Merlin awoke, no worse for the wear than he might have expected, being short a few hours of sleep. He arrived at work only slightly later than he'd planned and served the prince as best he could, careful to take breaks when he needed them. Despite the lack of sleep, he made it all the way to dinner time before collapsing. _Better_ , he thought. _It's getting better. I just need to be patient._ This collapse, however, was both spectacular and public, and Arthur watched with a raised eyebrow as a chicken leg bounced off his polished boot from the tray that hit the floor with a crash and then spun across the stones, scattering food everywhere. The courtiers seated at the table around Arthur mostly pretended not to notice. After all, the clumsiness of a servant meant little to them. Arthur turned to the nearest servant, and said something quietly. The man detoured, pulled Merlin to his feet, and said under his breath, "The prince ordered me to pick up the mess and to tell you, and I quote, 'Go home, Merlin.' Sorry, mate. But you better go, he looks like he means it."

Merlin looked up at the head of the table to meet a pair of ice-blue eyes. Arthur tilted his head pointedly at the door. He didn't seem to be angry, but the message was clear: _That's it. You're done. Go and rest._

Merlin gathered up the nearest food items and deposited them onto the tray, leaving Arthur's messenger to chase down the items that had fled a greater distance. _I'll just help pick this up._

Arthur's expression hardened. His lips tightened and a small, curt gesture emphatically indicated the door. Merlin could nearly hear the words, _Now, Merlin._

The servant returned, dumped a double handful of the mess onto the tray, and then tried to tug the tray from Merlin's hands. "I've got it, Merlin. Go on before something - uh, happens."

Merlin met the now-incendiary blue glare coming from the head of the table with an impish grin. There wasn't really anything Arthur could do without making the kind of scene that the prince surely wanted to avoid, and Merlin was sure that Arthur knew it. "I'll bring this into the kitchen and then go," he said to his fellow servant. "You've got enough to do." He looked back at Arthur, mouthed, "I'm going, I'm going," and went.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Having succeeded once, Merlin had been eager to make the next attempt upon rising that morning. There _were_ still four men, aside from the king, that needed his help. However, Gaius reminded him that the secrecy required for the sake of the family members dictated that they work at night. So it was not until very late that night that they were again gathered in the sickroom of a victim of the wyrms.

This time they had recruited more help. Gwaine and Gwen waited in the darkened hallway, listening for a call to either help support Merlin or to assist with tidying up and 'disposing of the evidence' as Gwaine had dubbed the need to slip family members back out of the castle without them being seen.

Inside the room, an older guard lay on the narrow bed in a pool of lamplight, with a very young man sitting uncomfortably in a chair beside the bed. The younger man was Nathan, Merlin reminded himself, the son of Benjamin, the stricken guard. Gaius had explained matters, and Nathan seemed willing to try despite the risks of associating with a sorcerer. Merlin knew Benjamin only a little, and Nathan not at all, and of course neither of them knew Emrys. But the relationship between himself and them was far less important than the relationship between father and son. A son's love would bring a father home, surely.

Quicker, this time, Merlin was able to forge a connection between himself and Nathan, whose thoughts revealed a sweet but somewhat tentative nature. The way was clear as they sank into the spirit realm. Merlin could feel Nathan's gasp at the cold and the strangeness of it all. _Nathan,_ Merlin prompted, _remember what we discussed. Think about what your father is like, project love and caring, and call for him._

The young man began questing outward dutifully, calling earnestly for his father, but there was an undertone of worry to it. As Nathan began to think of his father, Merlin began to see why. It seemed that Benjamin was a difficult man, controlling and distrustful. Nathan had every reason to believe that his father loved him, but also knew his father might not approve of consorting with a sorcerer. Nathan was truly worried for his father, however, and his call was all that Merlin could ask. After some time, Merlin could feel Nathan's recognition and a sudden change in course. Moments later, Benjamin's weight fell into the link. This time Merlin was prepared and braced for it, and though it tugged on him, he nevertheless was able to turn and begin the labor of drawing the pair back up and out. Benjamin, however, had become aware of Merlin.

 _Who are you?_ came the words through the link. The weight that was Benjamin doubled, resisting.

Merlin, immersed in the enormous effort, felt the thought, _Merlin_ , rise up. He hadn't projected it deliberately; hopefully neither of them had heard. He quickly amended, _My name is Emrys._

 _Nathan, do you know this man?_

 _He's Emrys, father. He's come to help you._

The weight, the resistance, mounted.

 _And you trusted him?_

 _Father, you were dying!_

Merlin was being dragged downward. He struggled, gasped for Gaius to help. The physician must have responded, for the link to Merlin's body strengthened. He pulled against it with all his strength, all his will, but made only incremental progress.

 _He's in my head!_ Benjamin's regard turned toward Merlin. _Get out of my head!_

 _Father, no, don't! Let him pull us out of here. I'll explain it all._

 _Get out of my head!_

Benjamin's spirit rose, battling. And with a horrifying tearing sound, something snapped.

On the wings of a huge explosion of icy force, Merlin flung himself and the only other line he could find up and away as hard as he could. There was an bone-shaking impact, and Merlin found himself on all fours beside his overturned chair. His whole body was shaking with cold, his arms trembling and barely able to bear his weight.

A flurry of movement and words flowed around him, each motion and each sentence taking a moment to sink in. He was vaguely aware of Gwen and Gwaine rushing into the room, Gaius frantically searching for a pulse on Benjamin's still form, and Nathan rising, horrified, from his seat.

"Gaius, what is it?"

"Mer- Er, Emrys, are you alright?"

"No. Oh, no. Father-"

 _No. No, it can't be. Please. He's not-_

"I'm sorry, Nathan. We've lost him."

"He wouldn't come, he just wouldn't, he just - and Emrys, he grabbed me and-"

A shadow crossed Merlin, and strong hands grasped his shoulders. A voice spoke near his ear. "Easy, Merlin, I've got you."

"Gwen, go get Wallace. Tell him Benjamin has passed on and that I need him to help me with Nathan."

 _No. I killed him. I failed._

Merlin shook Gwaine off, floundered to his feet, and ran.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin wasn't sure exactly where his feet had taken him. Upward. Away. When he found himself up against a stone parapet wall with nowhere left to run, he felt his knees going and he sank to the cool flagstones. His stomach twisted and ejected its contents violently, the retching persisting well past the point at which there was nothing left to bring up.

Somewhere in that spate of heaving, there were footsteps that came up the stairs. Hands were laid on him, supporting his head through the rest of the spasms and then pulling him away from the puddle of sick to lean against the wall. Light from the sliver of moon lit the air just enough for Merlin to make out Gwaine's features, pale in the darkness.

"Done?"

Merlin reached up to the acorn talisman at his neck and spoke the spell out loud, almost snarling the words. He wanted nothing to do with Emrys right now. His own form returned.

"Merlin?"

"I'm fine."

"Rrrright," Gwaine responded. He turned, scooted, and settled himself next to Merlin along the foot of the wall. Merlin could feel the warmth of Gwaine's shoulder against his. It seemed fever hot until Merlin realized that, as usual after a foray into the spirit world, he was chilled to the bone and shivering. Gwaine wrapped an arm around Merlin's shoulders, but said nothing. The silence prompted Merlin to fill it.

"I killed him."

"I don't believe that for a moment, Merlin," his friend said firmly. "Tell me what happened."

Merlin wrapped his arms around his chest and curled into himself, trying not to remember that horrible feeling of the cord snapping. He could feel his body trembling with cold and distress. Gwaine, looking concerned, wrapped his other arm around Merlin as well, holding him firmly. "Talk to me, mate."

It took Merlin a few long minutes to begin around the tightness in his throat, the pressure in his chest; and Gwaine, restless, impatient Gwaine simply waited. Then, once Merlin began, the words poured out in a rush. "...and then the cord snapped, Gwaine, right in my hands. And, oh gods, I felt him die, and all I could do was fling Nathan clear."

Gwaine didn't respond immediately, but his arms tightened around Merlin in a quick squeeze, and then, quietly, "He didn't let you save him. Not your fault, Merlin." Releasing Merlin, he shifted so that he could see Merlin's face. "It's not your fault. Believe it. Or I'll get Arthur to beat some sense into you." He got his legs under him, and reached for Merlin. "Come on, up you come, mate. Let's get you home and warm."

 **Author's note: Thank you for reading and especially those of you who've been reviewing! Makes my day! Also, special thanks to trekmel who triggered about a billion ideas while reading over and discussing this chapter. I hope you all liked the chapter! If you catch any logic holes, let me know and I'll fix them. Next chapter, Arthur will find out what Merlin's been up to!**

 **P.S. To you writers out there - I have a question: my chapters keep getting longer. I'm not doing on purpose, it just seems to happen. Does that happen to you? How long are your chapters? Mine are now in the low 5000 word range, up from 3000 at the beginning of this story and 1000 in Royal Crest. Just curious...**


	21. Chapter 21 - Uther

**Author's note: My apologies for the LONG delay in publishing. I can only plead necessity - real life caught up to me big time. So, since it's been too long, here's a more-detailed-than-usual summary:**

 **Merlin has learned the hard way that retrieving the men stung by the wyrms from the spirit realm is fraught with peril. His first attempt went well, and Tad was saved. But now, half-frozen from the touch of the spirit realm and distraught over the death of Benjamin, the guard who died as Merlin was attempting to save him, Merlin has been gathered up by Gwaine. He's not sure he dares to enter the spirit realm ever again. And yet, there are four more men in need of his help. Worse, one of those is the king.**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 21 – Uther

Gwaine had all but carried Merlin back to Gaius' chambers. The old physician had not yet returned, so Gwaine lowered Merlin into a chair near the hearth, wrapped him in the first blanket he could find, and fed the fire until it was a roaring blaze. The young man had found the kettle and started the water heating when Gaius arrived. The physician's swift concerned glance cataloged Merlin's exhaustion, hypothermia, and distress. He elected to treat the last of those immediately. "You did all you could, Merlin," he said, briefly setting his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "It hurts to lose a patient, but these men - all of them - are already dying. That you have saved even one is a victory."

The words should have helped, but they didn't, for Merlin couldn't quite absorb them. Alongside the cold and fatigue, he felt strange. It seemed as if everything was somehow distorted, dulled, and slightly further away than it should be, as if he were in a glass jar. Trapped in the jar with him was the memory, the feeling, of Benjamin dying. He shuddered and wrenched his mind away from the memory. Fingers pressed against his throat. When he looked up, it was to find Gaius watching him closely. "You're in shock, Merlin. It's all right. We'll get you warmed up and resting. Sleep will do the rest."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin awoke in the morning to hear voices downstairs. For a moment he was puzzled. Then he recalled the events of the previous night, and all sleepiness fled. He shoved those thoughts aside, rose and dressed, and went downstairs to find Gwaine and Gaius sitting at the rough wooden table, bowls of porridge before them and another bowl empty and waiting. Gwaine's vest was tossed over the rumpled patient cot, and the young man's sleepy eyes suggested that he'd just woken up himself. Seeing Merlin, Gaius rose and gestured toward the table. "Sit down, my boy, and have something to eat. How do you feel?"

As Gaius scooped up the empty bowl and limped over the hearth to fill it from the pot keeping warm above the coals, Merlin sank onto a stool at the table and considered the question. Sleep had largely restored him physically, though he carefully avoided thinking too much about the previous night.

"I'm fine, Gaius. Just tired." It wasn't exactly that, Merlin realized, but the explanation would have to do. _I don't have the ambition right now to figure out what it really is._ He picked up the spoon and started to lift a scoop of porridge to his lips, but his stomach turned. He set the spoon back down. "I'm not very hungry, after all, Gaius. If you don't mind, I think I'll just head out. Gwaine, I'll see you later."

"Merlin, there's no need to hurry," the physician objected. "Prince Arthur knows to expect you a bit late this morning."

"I'd rather just go, Gaius. Might as well get started." And he slipped out the door, feeling as though he'd escaped something, but not quite knowing what. _Don't think about it. Just do the job._

-o-o-o-o-o-

There were days that Merlin didn't like his job. Arthur's schedule was tightly packed on the best of days, and when the prince was irritable or demanding, Merlin went home frustrated and tired even with magic to help him. Today, though, with Arthur's duties twice what they usually were and the prince's patience reduced to almost nothing by stress, Merlin was grateful for the work. The nonstop demands kept him from thinking, kept at bay the memories of the previous night that seemed determined to bubble to the surface of his mind whenever he had a free moment. Gwaine had shown up randomly, and was being helpful for once, so Merlin threw himself into the work with a will, though with somewhat less success than usual. It seemed that he was forever dropping things, or arriving someplace having forgotten what it was he'd gone there for in the first place. There was no time for breaks, but the sudden collapses that had been plaguing him seemed to have subsided. _Finally fully healed from the wyrms' sting!_ Heartened, Merlin worked ceaselessly through the morning.

It wasn't until later, as he was following Arthur to the training grounds with his arms heaped with armor and weapons, he realized something else. Something was up with Gwaine. All morning Gwaine has been working alongside him, reminding him of tasks, carrying loads, and talking his usual blue streak as he did so. Merlin wasn't sure what Gwaine usually did during the day, but this wasn't it. Drill, yes, and sparring, but the rest of the time Gwaine wasn't generally around. Today, though, Gwaine had hung around all morning and now sparring was going on, but Gwaine wasn't participating.

"Gwaine, what are you up to?" he asked in irritation.

"Can't a man keep a friend company without getting snapped at?" the young man responded cheerfully.

"I don't need a nursemaid!" He nearly shouted the words.

At that, Arthur, who had been striding along ahead of them, stopped in his tracks. He turned and scrutinized Merlin, then turned that sharp look on Gwaine, who gave him an innocent look and shrugged.

"That does it," the prince said sharply. "Merlin, put those down. My chambers, now. And you, too, Gwaine, since you seem determined to follow him around like a duckling today."

Arthur turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of his quarters without so much as looking to see that they were following. He said nothing as they traversed the halls. Merlin followed with Gwaine in his wake, trying not to think. Never had the tapestries and displays along the halls merited such attention, but right now observing them helped to distract him. The softly swirling pinks, whites, and grays of the marble tiles below his feet were infinitely better to think about than- He cut the memory off before it could start.

All too soon, however, they were passing through the intricately carved wooden door that barred the entry to the prince's chambers. Inside, Arthur seated himself at his desk, steepled his fingers before his chin, and ordered Gwaine, "Close the door."

Merlin, left standing alone on the carpet before the desk, felt the distance keenly until the door closed with a thump and footsteps indicated Gwaine's presence behind his left shoulder.

"Now," the prince said very firmly, "what exactly is going on?"

Merlin took refuge from the memories evoked by the question by focusing on the commonplaces. "There's another council meeting in a little less than an hour. You've got another stack of correspondence to go through, though I can do a quick sort first if you would like. And you had planned to meet with Sir Bors' brother sometime today if you could…"

Arthur's glare hadn't silenced him, but when Arthur rose to his feet, Merlin suddenly ran out of words.

"No. You know exactly what I mean. Something has happened, and I want to know what it is."

"You'll have to be more specific, sire. There's been so much that happened just in the last few weeks - broken portals and creepy walking dead and evil wizards and floods and giant glowing bugs-"

" _Mer_ lin."

"Yes, sire?"

At first, Arthur looked ready to throw something, but then an expression of glacial calm settled over his face and his eyes fixed on Merlin's face. Merlin knew that look. This was Arthur the diplomat, listening and gauging every word, every expression, every gesture. Not many people knew just how perceptive the prince could be when he took the effort.

"Are you hurt? Did you collapse again?" The prince must have seen something, for he came to an immediate conclusion. "No, that's not it. But something did happen last night." Merlin couldn't help the flinch as the statement triggered a moment of recall. He pushed the memory away. "Is it Gaius? Did you have a disagreement?" Merlin nearly sagged with relief. That was as good an explanation as any. He opened his mouth, but the prince had already moved on. "No. I can see it on your face. You might want me to believe that, but that's not it either." He considered for a moment. "Gaius sent word that you'd both been up late with a patient. Did something go wrong?"

 _So very, very wrong_. The memory surged up and this time refused to be denied. It was as if he were back in that horrible moment. Merlin re-experienced the cold of the spirit realm, felt the weight on the cord, heard Benjamin's resistance and Nathan's pleading, and then sensed that final terrible snap as Benjamin died. The room seemed to tilt a bit.

There was an exclamation from behind him. A shoulder wedged itself under his, and an arm wrapped around his waist in support, gripping his belt. Arthur hastily spun the chair out from behind the desk so that Gwaine could lower Merlin into it. "You just went white, Merlin," the prince informed him. "Gwaine, make sure he doesn't fall out of the chair."

Heavy hands settled on his shoulders. Glassware clinked, across the room, and several seconds later the prince was back with a cut crystal goblet full of pale golden liquid. He shoved the vessel into Merlin's unresisting hands. "Drink it, or I pour it down your throat."

Merlin shakily raised the glass and sniffed. Wine. He sipped. It was lovely, perfect wine, the kind that he and Gaius never had. He took a bigger swallow. The alcohol blazed a trail down his throat, smooth and tart, warming as it went. The sense of unsteadiness eased, and he straightened up a bit and took a deep breath. Gwaine released him, shifting to lean one hip against Arthur's desk. The prince had diverted back to the table, where he grabbed another chair and dragged it back to Merlin. Setting it around the corner of his desk, he took a seat and ran an evaluative glance over Merlin. "Your color is better. Now, we are going to keep going, because I don't think I have the whole story yet. I assume the patient died. I am aware that you would be upset about losing a patient, but Gwaine doesn't want to let you out of his sight. That tells me this is more than just losing a patient. So. Who? How?"

"Benjamin."

Arthur waited for a long moment, and when no further details were forthcoming, prompted, "Benjamin. One of the guards stung by the wyrms." His eyes narrowed. "Merlin, what exactly have you been doing?"

When Merlin did not immediately respond, there was an explosive sigh from behind his chair, and Gwaine opened his mouth for the first time in the conversation. "He's been trying to help the people stung by the wyrms." Hints of motion around him suggested to Merlin that Arthur and Gwaine had exchanged a glance over his head. Arthur's gaze shot back to Merlin's face.

"You've been trying to help them. Whatever you did, it worked on Tad. But Benjamin died." The prince launched to his feet and strode away from them as far as the room allowed. He ended up at the window overlooking the courtyard. To Merlin's dismay, Arthur's back was stiff and his arms were folded tightly across his chest. A taut muscle was flickering in his jaw. _Angry. Furious, even. And trying to hide it._ Without turning, the prince spoke in a voice that could have frozen an entire sea. "Secrecy, Merlin. Again you choose to keep secrets from me. You might have a way to help my father and you didn't tell me." He turned away from the window to impale Merlin with a furious stare. "Why haven't you helped my father?"

Merlin rocked backward under the intensity of that glare. Behind him he was aware of Gwaine straightening up. "Go a bit easy on him, Arthur."

"Go easy on him? My father is dying, Gwaine!"

"And Merlin can't help if he's a guilt-ridden, exhausted mess. Go easy."

Merlin took a deep breath and addressed the overly protective fool behind his left shoulder. "Gwaine. It's his father. How would you feel?" He turned his attention back to the prince. "Arthur, please, there is a reason. Let me explain why." Merlin waited for a tense second as Arthur spun away to look out the window. The prince heaved a breath, turned and stomped back to his chair. Leaning on the back of it, he ground out a grudging permission.

"Fine, Merlin. Explain. And no secrets."

Merlin explained, leaving nothing out. He related what his reasons had been for not choosing the king for his first attempt: His worries that he simply didn't know what he was doing, might endanger or even kill one of the men out of lack of knowledge, and his awareness that he might very well need to disappear rather publicly immediately after the attempt to rouse the king. And now, his fear that King Uther might not allow himself to be saved. Telling the prince what had happened in Benjamin's room that night was the hardest thing he had ever done, and there was a point at which he found himself struggling to continue. His chest felt like there was a boulder on it, and his throat was so tight it was hard to even breathe.

Arthur nudged the goblet in Merlin's hand. "Drink, Merlin." A gulp of wine eased the tightness in his throat, and the words came out. He was relieved that his anguished explanation seemed to be reaching something inside the prince. The stormy contenance slowly cleared, and with it the weight lifted off Merlin's shoulders.

When he was finished, Arthur wandered back to the window, more calmly this time. His expression warned Merlin to let him think, so, more comfortable with his hands busy, Merlin began organizing the desk. Gwaine, who had been still as long as Gwaine ever was, sauntered over the fruit bowl kept full for Arthur. He chose two apples and attempted to juggle the pair one-handed. When an errant toss resulted in the fleshy thunk of fruit on stone, Arthur turned to look. A raised eyebrow was his only reaction as Gwaine began eating the mistreated apple while returning the other one, unharmed, to the bowl.

"Merlin, come here." It was an order, of course, but spoken mildly. "Gwaine, go down to the kitchens. Tell Cook I want to eat up here, and ask her to send up food for three. No, four."

Gwaine looked briefly uncertain. Arthur responded before Merlin could. "I'm not going to yell at him, Gwaine. Just get the food."

When Gwaine had gone and Merlin had joined the prince in the pool of sunlight pouring through the window, Arthur took a deep breath and asked quietly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Merlin had expected the question. This answer, however, was easy. "I didn't want to get your hopes up only to dash them if I couldn't do it."

"That was all?"

"Of course. Why else… Oh." He turned to face Arthur more squarely. "Arthur, he's your father. As much as I am afraid of what he may do, I could never do that to you. I can promise you, I will do everything I can to revive your father - when I know more about what I am doing. I killed a man, Arthur."

"I know better than that, and so do you," came the response after a moment. "I can't guarantee you that it won't happen again, but we'll do our best - together."

-o-o-o-o-

Over a luncheon to which Gaius was summoned as well, a strategy was mapped out. Of the remaining victims of the wyrms, one was a knight well known to Arthur, but with no local family members. Arthur and Merlin would attempt to rouse him first. The other stricken knight had a brother living in town who would be approached to see if he would be willing to attempt to save his sibling the following night. That left one man, aside from the king. That one man presented a challenge in an entirely new way: Gaius, in his search for his next of kin, could find nobody who admitted to more than a passing acquaintance with him. He had no family and no close friends among the denizens of Camelot. Merlin would make the attempt with Gaius, but held out little hope of even finding him.

"It's hard to find a person in the spirit realm unless you know them very, very well," he explained to Arthur. "Back in the cave, I found you only because I recognized how you think, how you feel. I have the sinking feeling that none of us know this man well enough to find him. You only know his name, Gaius treated him only once for a minor injury, and I don't know him at all. It's not much, but we've got to try."

On the last night, they would make the attempt to revive the king. This had to be planned carefully, partially for Merlin's safety and partially to avoid incriminating Uther's servants, should the king's anger spill over onto them. Still, by the time Merlin and Gaius headed back to their rooms to get some sleep, a strategy had been outlined. "And remember, Merlin," the prince had admonished as they left, "no secrets. I am to be informed and involved at every step. Understood?"

"Yes, sire."

-o-o-o-o-o-

The first parts of the plan went smoothly. Arthur had been right about knowing the young knight well. It turned out that they had trained together from boyhood, and though they had drifted apart with maturity, their shared history allowed Arthur to find and retrieve him with only the difficulties that seemed to be standard for any foray into the spirit realm - cold and fatigue. The simplicity of it had eased some of the knots in Merlin's gut. Perhaps the debacle with Benjamin was not to be repeated.

Merlin tried to shepherd the prince back to his chambers, but Arthur had adamantly refused and threatened to sack him if he tried. "The chattering of your teeth is going to wake the castle, Merlin. Go home and warm up. I have warmed blankets and a warm bed waiting for me. I'll expect you in the morning."

The foray the next night was nearly as successful, though Merlin discovered that when one's helper began arguing with his brother about something ridiculous, it put just as much resistance against the cord as an actual refusal. He had to mentally shout at the two of them, there in the icy dark, to shut up and help him. They did, radiating chagrin, and the victim was safely retrieved.

The following night Merlin tried with Gaius to retrieve the next man. After what seemed like years of fruitless searching, he was shaken from his concentration by Gwaine.

"Your fingernails are turning blue, mate. Gaius told me to get you two out if that happened." Merlin could barely nod in response. He was so cold that his brain was moving in slow motion. Across the bed, Gaius was rousing as well, and being wrapped in a warmed blanket by Gwen. Merlin's eyes met those of the old physician. They had done what they could. There was no helping this man.

The following morning Merlin awoke reluctantly. His eyes were bleary and not particularly inclined to open at all. _Six interrupted nights in a row_ , he thought. _We didn't think about that._ Nevertheless, he staggered down to breakfast. Mechanically spooning the inevitable porridge into his mouth, he closed his tired eyes just for a moment - and awoke with his cheek on the table and a laden spoon that had spilled its contents inches from his nose. A soft snore caught his attention. When he looked over, he discovered Gaius asleep at his worktable, with his face pillowed on his arm. _We're a sorry pair._

By midmorning Merlin's fatigue was obvious even to Arthur. The tray of dropped dishes hadn't been so terribly out of character, but then there was a bed with sheets on inside out and the large puddle on the prince's desk that had resulted from Merlin's inaccurate attempt to refill the prince's goblet. When those failures were joined by a certain servant being found asleep on said prince's desk after sopping up the water and laying the papers out to dry, permission was granted to take the afternoon to sleep. Merlin stumbled home and was asleep in moments.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Late in the evening, Merlin and Gaius once again traversed the dark and silent halls, Merlin in his Emrys form. At the king's door, they were confronted by the senior of the two guards charged with securing the king's door for the night. The points of two swords were leveled at their chests by the guards whose faces could not be seen in the flickering torchlight.

"Who goes there?" came the softly spoken challenge.

"Gaius, king's physician, and my guest, Emrys."

The guards' swords lowered and they stepped aside. "Enter," the first man said. He grabbed a torch from the wall and opened the door for them. With that change in the angle of the light, Merlin could identify them: Leon's earnest gaze met his from within one helmet, and the other revealed Tad's conspiratorial grin. Clearly, Arthur had rearranged the duty roster.

"Good luck," Leon whispered. "Call if you need us."

Inside the king's chambers, all was quiet. The darkness was dimly lit by a single hurricane glass on the bedside table and a small candelabra on another table nearby. Arthur looked up from a seat at the table, face serious and drawn with worry. He spoke quietly. "I've sent my father's manservant down to the servant's hall with the understanding that I want to spend time alone with my father. He seemed to find my intentions believable, and expects to return at midnight. Shall we begin?"

Merlin and Gaius approached the king's enormous curtained bed. The curtains had been drawn strategically to block any view of the bed from the door, but were otherwise tied back out of the way. Merlin looked down at King Uther, and was chilled by what he saw. The king looked - cadaverous. His flesh was sunken and waxy, and to Merlin's senses, the welling energy that was the property of all living things flickered low and tenuous in the wasted form on the bed. It seemed strange to fear him, as weakened as he was. _But I fear him,_ Merlin acknowledged to himself, _and I fear that I will regret this decision. But to do anything else harms Arthur. So this is the right thing to do. Besides, nobody, not even Uther, deserves to be lost forever in the spirit realm._

Gaius quietly took charge of the proceedings. "Sire, you'll need to take your father's hand, and Emrys the other." Arthur seated himself on one edge of the bed and lifted one of his father's hands to cradle it in his own. Struck by the care in the gesture, Merlin turned away and went around to the other side of the bed, climbing up onto the high, celestially soft mattress and folding his legs under him so that he was seated at the king's other side. He looked into Uther's face, and hesitated. So much was wrong here. It was wrong to save him - and wrong not to. And what if he chose not to be saved? _Can I even say I truly want this to work?_

Movement nearby caught his attention, and he looked up to see Arthur's hand held out.

"Merlin. It's time."

Merlin took a deep breath. It _was_ time. And though much was wrong, this was the only right thing for Arthur's sake. He picked up the King's hand and reached out to Arthur with hand and mind.

Practice had smoothed the process such that despite the churning worry in Merlin's gut, he and his prince sank quickly and easily into the biting cold of the spirit realm. The connection flared to life between them as Arthur grasped his arm in a warrior's clasp, palm to wrist. It was the only warmth or light in that strange and frigid place. In the vastness, Merlin could sense flashes of feelings, glimpses of thoughts, fragmented and lonely and disparate. Nearby, Arthur's thoughts tumbled against his.

 _We can do this, Merlin._ The brave words were belied by the anxiety Merlin could feel radiating from the prince. Merlin sent a wordless surge of sympathy and affection through the link. Embarrassed gratitude rippled back, but there was no real comfort to be had - Merlin's own anxiety matched Arthur's.

 _Come what may, it's time, my friend,_ Merlin responded. He could feel Arthur's attention turn away from him and begin questing outward into the cold.

Merlin set his grip like iron on the prince's signature but withdrew into himself as far as he could without losing contact, making himself small, smaller, smallest. It would be best the king did not even notice he was there until it had to be.

( _Alarm.) Merlin?_

 _It's okay. I'm still here. I'm just staying out of the way._

 _(Concern. Puzzlement.)_

 _Best your father doesn't know I'm here until you've had a chance to explain matters._ For a moment Merlin felt anew the horror of Benjamin's death. It must have spilled over to the prince, for he responded with a wave of concern and reassurance.

 _No, Merlin. We won't let that happen._ Merlin could feel Arthur steadying himself, calming and reaching for confidence in response to Merlin's need. _Together, we can do this._ He turned his attention back to the task, and Merlin could hear and feel him resume the search.

Drawn small and tight inside himself, Merlin couldn't hear as much of Arthur's searching, but even so the backwash and echoes were enlightening. The Uther that Arthur knew was a different man, in many ways, than the king known to Merlin. Arthur's childhood memories of his father, while formal and proper, included times of true caring. Arthur admired his father's strength most of all, and remembered times in which that strength had been used to protect, to support, and to build. Even the expectations Uther had, the demands he placed on Arthur which Merlin found unreasonable and uncaring, Arthur saw in another light. Arthur saw confidence in him and the assumption that Arthur could become more.

Arthur's search quested out into the cold, and as the prince drew away from him, Merlin could feel the strain begin. He held tightly to himself and Arthur, sensing his spirit stretching to bridge the distance. Sooner than Merlin had expected, he felt the weight on him that indicated that Arthur had located and linked with his father. This time, though, Merlin tried to remain motionless, exerting himself quietly to simply hold it all in place, keeping the prince and king from slipping farther away, but making no attempt to draw them in yet. There was no sound here, yet he could hear, as if from afar, Arthur's relief and Uther's confusion. Scraps of their conversation echoed soundlessly in the frigid void as Merlin carefully gathered up the cord leading to Uther.

 _Father!_

 _Arthur?!_

 _Yes, Father. We've come to bring you home._

 _(Puzzlement.) What is this place?_

 _You are in the spirit realm. You were stung by the wyrms and flung out of your body into the spirit realm. I have recruited a friend and loyal subject to help me retrieve you._

 _(Trepidation. Suspicion.) Arthur, how is this happening? Don't tell me you resorted to sorcery. (Guilt.)_

 _Father, trust me. I have every reason to believe that this was the only way to save you. I also know that this man does not mean harm to either of us. He saved my life and Leon's while we were away, and has been a trustworthy companion._

 _Who is this man?_

Merlin sequestered his true identity deep inside himself, and became Emrys as much as he possibly could. Taking the opportunity that Arthur had just provided, he stepped out from his shell of smallness and quiet.

 _Me, sire. My name is Emrys._

Merlin paused, mentally taking a breath to steady himself trying to project good intentions.

 _Sire, I know you don't know me, but you do know your son. Look at him. Listen to his thoughts, sense his feelings. See in him what I see. A man, young perhaps, but a man nonetheless who cares for his people just as much, just as deeply, as you do._

Merlin could sense Uther's attention turn to his son, sense Arthur struggling to be open to the connection despite a surprising surge of trepidation. Thoughts, feelings, words flashed between the two. While the king was otherwise engaged, he turned his attention to drawing the two of them in, and the struggle began. It felt as if Merlin was dragging the weight of the world, and the cord was stretched perilously thin with the weight. He dared not throw his full strength against it lest it break, but a steady effort produced only minimal movement. Gaius' hand on the back of his neck strengthened him, but still he made little progress.

 _Arthur,_ he sent, _I need your help. Help me pull us in. Think of your hands in mine and in his._ He made sure of his grip on Arthur and threw himself back into the effort. He could feel Arthur helping, towing his father.

Then it happened. Uther's regard focused on Merlin.

 _You. You have your hooks into my son. Let go of him._

Uther's will battered at the link between Merlin and Arthur. The weight on the cord tripled, and that beleaguered cord supporting Merlin, connecting them all to the world, began to fray. Far away, more hands settled on Merlin, pushing strength into him. He poured it all into the cord. More hands. He poured the energy into the connection with Arthur. But Uther, perhaps feeling the impossibility of interfering between Merlin and Arthur, still continued to struggle, his cord growing thinner in Merlin's hands.

It began to tear.

Time slowed down.

 _No no no no. This can't happen. Not again._

Faint and far away, Arthur was reaching for him in concern.

 _NO._

Merlin dug deep, deeper into himself than he had ever gone. Deep inside, he could feel his connection to the strength of earth itself, the very bones of the world, that enormous bedrock sturdiness of stone. He drew upon it, pulled it into himself and poured it out into everything around him. Arthur. Uther. Gaius. Leon. Tad. Every cord he could find. Into the void itself. The cord supporting Uther stopped fraying, and the magic filled in the tiny tears, creating a glittering crystalline beauty in the darkness. In that explosion of force and light in the darkness, Arthur somehow shoved them all upward. Then everything seemed to go grey.

Merlin came to himself lying flat on his back on the hard floor at the foot of the king's bed, trembling with cold. Leon was bending over him, and all around the knight, and indeed, all around the room, the air had changed. Candlelight sparkled and glinted across facets that were - everywhere. It was as if the air was filled with ethereal crystals of all sizes, from the breadth of Merlin's hand to the length of his arm. They floated, turning slowly, overlapping and passing right through one another. Tad, standing over Leon, reached out a tentative hand to touch a facet of candlelight as it rotated slowly in the air. It flowed lazily over his hand, seeming to sink in.

"It's warm," Tad said quietly, wonderingly, "and soft."

Arthur, kneeling at Merlin's other side, looked around in quiet awe. He laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Mer-Emrys, are you alright? Did you do this?"

Merlin could only shrug, having no idea what the answer was to either of those questions, but he began struggling to sit up. He was, as expected, bitterly cold and entirely exhausted, and the effort was almost more than he could manage. Leon and Arthur shifted to aid him. Merlin reached out, as Tad had, to touch the crystalline candlelight that filled the air. As each facet came in contact with him, Merlin could feel a small surge of warmth and strength. Not quite sure what else to do, but thinking that ethereal crystals probably shouldn't end up floating all over the castle, he called them, and they came, like clouds blown by a slow wind, one by one soaking into Merlin, Arthur, Tad, or Leon. Though still cold and tired, those tiny infusions of energy were enough. Merlin felt well enough to attempt to stand.

Gaius, bending over the king, raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the air around him slowing clearing. "Well, that's different, at any rate." He turned his attention back to his patient. "Sire, how do you feel?" As the king tried weakly to sit up, Gaius braced him and stuffed pillows hastily behind him so that he could recline, supported, in a semi-sitting position.

As Merlin stood, the kings eyes blazed and he spoke angrily.

"You. Emrys. Get away from my son."

 **Author Note #2: Thanks to all of you who've been reading, and most of all those who've commented: Mersan123, gingeraffealene, Lollypops101, Cjanansx3, laorart, and a guest, you keep me going, and you're the ones who made this chapter happen. You and trekmel, who was online with me until 11:30pm going over it. Thank you, all of you!**

 **P.S. If you're wondering where has Gwaine disappeared to, don't worry - he's got a part to play in getting Merlin out of this mess.**

 **P.P.S. Gingeraffealene, you get credit for Merlin's line - did you notice it? - "Nobody, not even Uther, deserves to be lost forever in the spirit realm."**


	22. Chapter 22 - Fugitive

**Merlin has saved the King. To quote Gingeraffealene, "Emrys just saved Uther's life, of course the king will now try his best to kill him."**

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 22 – Escape

The king's cold gray eyes bored into Merlin's. _Of course this is the way of it_ , thought Merlin around the shivers that shook his entire frame and the exhaustion that made his limbs feel leaden and clumsy. _No thanks from the king. Only "Get away from my son."_ Not that he'd expected anything else, really. At least the king hadn't died. Merlin was relieved. _Mostly._

Arthur's hand on his arm broke Merlin's attention away from the king's furious gaze that had him frozen like a mouse under the eyes of a snake. "Emrys. I wish to speak to you privately." The prince turned back to the room in general. "Leon, Tad, thank you for your help. Return to your posts, please. Giaus, if you would stay with my father…"

At Gaius' nod, Arthur drew Merlin into the king's sitting room, out of view of the bedchamber, and waited until Leon and Tad had come through on their way back to their posts in the hallway. When Leon had closed the door behind himself and Tad, the prince spoke. "Merlin?" he asked, keeping his voice low, "Can I see _you_ for a second?" It took a breath for Merlin to realize what his friend was asking. With a gulp, he reached up to touch the acorn on its cord. His natural form returned as he whispered the spell. The prince's eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly, as if settling something in his own mind. He reached out and set his hands on Merlin's shoulders. "Merlin. Thank you." When Merlin goggled at him, he smiled wryly and then continued as if he'd said nothing unusual. "Are you alright?" At Merlin's nod, he continued, "Can you ride?" Again Merlin nodded, though he wondered how true that answer really was. The thought was daunting. However, since the alternative was disappearing in the castle and letting Uther suspect his guards or his son of treason, Merlin could ride. He could ride if it killed him. Arthur must have read some of his uncertainty on his face, for he looked the younger man over critically. "Merlin, are you sure you can ride?"

"I'd better manage it, hadn't I?" Merlin responded tiredly.

"I can send Leon with you. Or Tad."

"We've been over this. It won't work. Emrys has to be seen to make a clean getaway without apparent inside help."

The prince stared at him quizzically for a moment, then relented. "Very well. You'll need to go back into Emrys shape." He watched as Merlin changed again. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to that. Now, let's get you out of here."

He called Leon's name. The door opened and Leon's curly head popped around it with suspicious efficiency.

"Yes, sire?"

The prince raised his voice so as to be heard from the other room. "Leon, Tad, arrest Emrys."

Several things happened in rapid succession. Tad followed Leon into the room, both of them reaching for Merlin, Tad with a reluctant, almost frightened look, and Leon with an air of unreadable calm. Gaius came to the doorway of the king's bedchamber, saying "Sire, you promised his safe return-"

Pushing past the exhaustion that wanted to shut his brain down, Merlin acted. The door to the king's bedchamber sealed itself with a shimmering shield that pushed Gaius back half a step into the king's bedchamber. The old physician seemed to shout something, but it could not be heard. _Good_. Leon and Tad were frozen in place suddenly - and so was Arthur. In the moment of contact, as the spell hit, Merlin could feel Arthur's furious struggle followed by mutinous and probably temporary surrender when he discovered that no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't move a muscle.

 _(Irritation.) You will pay for this, Merlin._

 _(Amusement.) You'll have to catch me first, sire._

Merlin eeled around Leon's and Tad's rigid forms and slipped out into the hallway through the open door, rubbing his own arms to try to draw some warmth into them. He closed the heavy wooden door of the king's chambers quietly behind him, and set his hand and will to the lock. Tumblers gritted softly as they turned. Presumably Arthur or Leon, or both, had a key, so a locked door wouldn't stop them, but at least it would slow things down.

Moving silently Merlin slipped through the halls, holding tightly in his mind to the shield spell and the spells of paralysis over Leon, Tad, and Arthur. His goal was the kitchens. He'd wandered the castle in the wee hours often enough to know that there weren't a lot of night guards inside the keep itself - usually just the king's chambers and the vaults. There were guards outside the front door, of course, and he'd have pass by them one way or another. But first things first. The kitchen had a door to the outside, though only to the walled vegetable and herb gardens. That wall, however, was scaleable.

Soon Merlin was at the door of the kitchens, back in his own form since Emrys had no business in the kitchen while Merlin reasonably might. He set his ear to the smooth wood of the door. Between servers working late finishing the dishes and cooks arriving early to start the bread rising, there weren't many quiet hours in the kitchens. When one factored in men like Gwaine sneaking in at all hours for midnight snacks, company in or around the kitchen was a real possibility. So Merlin listened carefully while keeping part of his mind on the shield and the paralysis spells.

After several long seconds, in which he heard nothing at all, Merlin reached to open the door. Just as his hand touched the latch, however, there was a sound - not in the kitchen, but in the corridor behind him. Merlin thanked his lucky stars that he'd already changed back into his own form, because the footfalls from the darkness behind him heralded the arrival of another man. _David, I think his name is. He's Uther's dog boy. If you can call a man a dog boy at age, what, seventy?_ Merlin dragged his beleaguered brain back to the task at hand. _Relax_ , he counseled himself as his brain screamed at him to hurry. _You're just here for a midnight snack, same as he probably is. It's an ordinary night._

Merlin nodded pleasantly to David as the man came alongside of him, and raised a hand to his lips with a grin. He gently raised the latch, and pressed slowly on the door. It opened with a bit of a squeak - and from inside the kitchen there was a sound; a snort, perhaps, or a cut off snore, and a rustling of fabric. Merlin cursed internally. Somebody was asleep in there.

David waited only until the door opened enough to admit him. He met Merlin's eyes with an impish smile, and slipped through the partially opened door. When Merlin followed, he found David silently pointing to a lumpy form wrapped in shawl and slumped snoring over the prep table. Then the old man began rummaging quietly and purposefully through the bowl of fruit that was on the shelf.

What to do now? _David mustn't see me leaving._ Merlin turned and headed for the pantry in which the cheeses and smoked meats were kept. He eased the door open and slipped inside. _I'll wait here until David goes, then slip away._ With only the muted glow of the hearth lighting the main part of the kitchens, the amount of light coming in the door was negligible. The pantry was as dark as the inside of a sock. Merlin took a deep breath. Inside his head, he could feel Arthur's renewed struggles against the spell of paralysis. The prince was determined, Merlin would give him that. And having never before used that spell and then walked away, Merlin was only now discovering that distance seemed to be a factor with this one. His grip on the prince was weakening - it would not be long before Arthur managed to get loose. He peeked from the darkness. What was David doing now? Was he gone?

 _Oh dear._

David had settled himself on a stool near the sleeping cook and was calmly munching grapes. Slowly. Luxuriously. In total disregard for the slumbering form on the other side of the table.

 _Great._

Standing in the darkness, shivering, and trying to think through the exhaustion, Merlin knew he needed to act. He couldn't stay in the pantry forever - David would wonder, and perhaps come to see what had befallen him. But he also couldn't leave the castle under David's eye.

Mentally reviewing the contents of the pantry, Merlin fumbled through the darkness until he found a chunk of hard cheese that would be unlikely to be missed. Brain screaming, "Hurry, hurry," and Arthur's struggles dragging at him, Merlin stepped as casually as he could out of the pantry. He saluted David with the cheese and disappeared out the door into the hallway.

Wedging himself into the nearest pitch-dark corner, Merlin waited, motionless and silent. If it hadn't been for the buzzing in his brain that was Arthur's very active resistance, he might have even fallen asleep there in the darkness out of sheer exhaustion. But the struggle to keep Arthur contained just a little longer kept him alert until finally, finally, David emerged. The old man disappeared into darkness, passing Merlin only arm's length away without seeming aware at all that he was there.

Safe.

With a silent sigh of relief, Merlin slipped back into the kitchen with care to avoid waking the cook, eased open the garden door just a crack and wriggled through it. A swift quiet spell locked the door behind him, and he was on his way. The bag of gear he'd left under the cart was still there. With it in hand, he clambered laboriously over the wall with the help of a stack of crates. The shadows were deep, and Merlin could have chosen to hide in them, but from here on out, stealth was not his purpose. Emrys must be seen making his escape.

Merlin changed into his Emrys form and strode out into the courtyard, toward the torches that burned through the night at the front doors of the keep. These were guarded, of course, and those guards must be the first to see Emrys.

As planned, waiting tethered in the courtyard was a very ordinary brown horse. Phillip was his name, Merlin remembered. Phillip belonged to one of the farmers outside town who sold greens in the village square each day. His owner, a grateful patient of Gaius', had loaned him secretly while making a point of complaining loudly to anyone who would listen that his horse had been stolen. If, in the next few hours, Phillip found himself without a rider, Merlin was certain he would find his way home.

Merlin untied Phillip and mounted. It took two tries. The saddle seemed unusually far off the ground, and Merlin's arms and legs were still shaking with cold. He stuffed his bag in front of him in the saddle and pulled from it a warm cloak. After donning it, he rode right through the pool of torchlight, deliberately lifting his face to the guards with a mocking salute. Their expressions were difficult to see behind the helmets, but Merlin imagined they were thoroughly puzzled. Folks didn't ordinarily come and go at this late hour. They looked at each other and one man raised his hand to stay him, but Merlin rode on, around the corner, into darkness, wrapping the cloak tightly around him against the chill. The night air wasn't cold, exactly, but the flow of it across exposed skin was stealing away what little warmth he'd had.

As he did so, Merlin felt a popping in his mind and Arthur's presence disappeared like a soap bubble. The prince was loose. Merlin sighed. Arthur would only be able to delay things for so long. Eventually he'd be ordered to sound the alarm bell, and Merlin wanted to be outside the portcullis before than happened.

The portcullis was the next obstacle. It was lowered for the night, of course, and guarded by three men from from the inside. Blasting the portcullis outward would be the easiest, but loud enough to draw innocents into the line of fire. _Not to mention Arthur requested as little property damage as possible._ _All right then. Let me stay in the shadows so as not to get skewered on somebody's spear while I do this…_ Making use of the deep shadows outside the pool of light created by the torches bracketing the gate, Merlin concentrated on the portcullis mechanism. There was a locking lever to keep it raised. So Merlin only needed to operate the winch that raised it.

Unfortunately, it was harder to move smaller things with control, for some reason, than just blasting a portcullis across the lawn, and Merlin was already holding onto one shield spell and two spells of paralysis. The concentration needed to turn the winch was considerable, since it required constantly changing the direction of the force and fine, small movements. _Arthur's loose anyway, and Tad and Leon will follow his orders._ A flick of the mind, and Tad and Leon were released. That left just the shield. Surely he could balance the shield spell and the effort of guiding the crank - and the longer he could hold the shield, the longer it would be before Arthur got an order he could not refuse.

The guards must have heard Phillip's hooves approaching, for they were all alert and looking in the direction from which Merlin was coming. Still, they were not yet alarmed. With their attention on the darkness in which he sat, Merlin focused on the winch, pulling firmly on the crank that would lift the heavy iron monstrosity that was the portcullis. The pulleys groaned, and the iron grate began to lift.

Now the men were alarmed, and Merlin couldn't blame them. This had to be outright spooky. Darkness, disembodied hoofbeats, then the crank begins moving on its own. All three of them stared in horror and confusion at the crank as it continued to rotate slowly, lifting the portcullis inch by inch. Their frozen state didn't last long, however, and then each responded according to his own training and personality. One man cautiously approached the crank. Another readied his spear and grabbed one of the torches from its bracket, approaching Merlin's place of concealment. Merlin rode out into the light and immobilized the man where he stood. The third dashed toward the alarm bell. Merlin paralyzed him with a spell, feeling himself lose his grip on the shield separating Arthur from the king - just as the first man turned away from the crank and flung himself for the alarm bell as well. Before Merlin could stop him, he shook it vigorously.

 _Curse it. My time is really running out now._ Merlin returned his attention to the portcullis. All he needed to do was get the grate high enough long enough for Phillip to pass under it. _And, of course, not get killed by the guards._ He slapped a spell of paralysis on the last guard, who had spun to threaten him with his spear.

Just then the deep tones of the warning bell atop the north tower rang out. Shouts could be heard from the barracks nearby, and lights flickered to life in windows all over the keep. The guards from the front door came charging around the corner. Behind them Merlin could hear the metallic chink of jostled armor and the shouts of an officer as the first of the responders emerged from the barracks.

 _No time to worry about property damage any more. I'm going for efficiency._ He let go of the spells - all of them. All around him men straightened, stumbling as they were released from the spell. The portcullis crashed down. Merlin smashed outward with his magic. The portcullis shattered, pieces of tortured metal flying everywhere. Merlin set his heels to Phillip's sides, shouting, "Go, Phillip, go!" Phillip was willing. He launched into a ponderous gallop toward the darkened causeway on the other side of the now useless gate mechanism. _One more thing to do. Give them one more clear look at my face._ Before they had moved out of range of the torchlight, Merlin turned to look behind him, giving another mocking salute. Then he and Phillip fled down the causeway into the darkened town.

It was only a short ride from the causeway to the outer gates, but it became clear that Phillip wasn't used to galloping any distance. He'd tired quickly and had slowed down on his own. Merlin let him. The horse had been somewhat startled when light had bloomed in the air in front of him, and had come to a precipitous halt, nearly unseating Merlin, but when nothing else happened, Phillip had consented to continue. No horse would run headlong when it couldn't see, Merlin knew. And he'd need to light to deal with the next challenge - the outer gates.

 _Come to think of it,_ he thought, _more light is better. I want to be memorable_. This time he created the lights in his hands where Phillip couldn't see them, and eased each one up and out until he was surrounded by a ring of floating lights. By the time they neared the gates, Merlin was ready. He reached out with his mind and immobilized the two guards. As they watched, frozen, Merlin mentally grabbed the heavy oaken timber that barred the gates. He flung it up and back so that it crashed into the empty street behind him. A quick mental shove threw the gates open, and he rode toward them with the lights floating around him. As he came alongside one of the guards, a man of middle years with a shock of curling brown hair, he spoke. "Tell your king," he said to the man, "Emrys intends no harm to Camelot. Uther cannot stay me from my tasks. But he hinders me at his peril, his and Camelot's. He will not see me again." Merlin released both men, clucked to Phillip, and galloped off into the night.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Once over the first rise, Merlin extinguished most of the lights, and pulled Phillip in to a walk to give the horse a breather. He turned in the saddle to look back. There were torches burning, the dots of light moving from place to place near where the wrecked portcullis was, and a cluster of torches moving up the road toward him. Pursuit.

Merlin returned his attention to the road and continued on, traveling as quickly as Phillip could manage. The sliver of moon did little to light the road, but the light from his spell was enough to see by, washing the road and the surrounding hedgerows and trees in an eerie blue glow. When farmsteads had given way to wilderness, Merlin slowed. Soon he found what he had been looking for; an enormous ancient oak tree that hugged the road. It had a low limb that stretched out over the road, gnarled and thick. Merlin reined Phillip in below it. He slid down out of the saddle, grabbed his bag, and looked back. The party in pursuit was closer - much closer. He caught Phillip's bridle, preparing to lead him off the road, when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. Merlin nearly leaped out of his skin.

"Took you long enough."

In the glow, Merlin could see Gwaine's grin.

"One of these days, Gwaine."

"How did it go?"

"Gwaine, we need to get Phillip out of the road right now. We're about to have company, and there's something I need to do..." Merlin handed Phillip's reins to Gwaine and turned back to the edge of the road. He nudged his glowing blue light a little higher, then sent it bobbing on down the road, following it with his mind. In his concentration, he was vaguely aware of Gwaine dragging him off the road and pushing him down in the undergrowth. When the light was well out of sight, he extinguished it and returned his attention to his surroundings. Seconds later, a large party of guards galloped up. They would have gone right by but for Phillip. The horse had had a confusing day, and upon hearing the sound of other horses, he whickered a greeting. It wasn't so terribly loud, especially against the jingle of mail and thudding of hoofbeats. Still, one man, the nearest, drew in the reins, stopped and listened. He raised his voice and called to his captain. Merlin heard Gwaine curse by his elbow, then a scrabbling sound as Gwaine came up with a handful of pebbles which he flung forcefully in Phillip's general direction. The horse snorted in startlement and affront and galloped off. _Probably heading straight for home. That works._

In the seconds Gwaine's action had taken, the whole squad had come to a stop and the captain was riding back to find out what had caught the attention of the guard who was standing no more than thirty feet from where Merlin and Gwaine lay concealed in the bracken.

"Have to move," he heard in the tiniest whisper from Gwaine.

Merlin nodded and then realized that Gwaine might not be able to see the gesture. "Yeah. Quietly."

Staying low, the two men crawled through the bracken deeper into the forest. Soon they were out of range of the torchlight. Under the trees as they now were, even the tiny bit of moonlight was gone. Merlin waved a hand in front of his eyes and could barely even see the motion. He felt Gwaine bump into him, and turned toward the contact.

"Let's listen for a second." He raised up on his knees to look back where they had come. A pool of torchlight surrounded the squad. Only scraps of their conversation could be heard.

"...was a horse...could be him…"

"...saw the lights up the road…"

"...search the woods…"

As Merlin and Gwaine watched, the party split up. Five men turned their horses over to others, accepted torches, and advanced into the woods while the rest remounted and soon were galloping off down the road.

"Gwaine, help me remember. Is there high ground around here?" he asked in a whisper.

"Yeah. Trick'll be finding it in the dark. Why?"

"Trust me. I have an idea."

Gwaine's hand grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. Merlin followed, trying to move quietly in the darkness. It was nearly impossible, however, to move silently when one could not see the terrain. As Merlin was stepping forward, his foot caught on a twig and before he could slow his forward momentum, it bent and then broke. The snap was loud in the quiet night, and the nearest searcher spun in their direction.

"Over there," he shouted, "I heard something." He charged in their direction, and the light of his torch clearly illuminated the two men. The guard, blessedly, did not seem to recognize either of them.

"Run!" shouted Gwaine.

They took off running. It was a terrifying feeling running all out through the woods at night. By the time Merlin could see a tree in front of him, he had only just enough time to wrench himself aside to avoid crashing directly into it. He ran on, trusting that Gwaine knew where they were. At this point, Merlin certainly didn't.

Only minutes later, he could feel the ground rising under his feet. Now, he thought. He reached out with his magic into the world. There was mist rising with the coming morning. He only needed to encourage it. Pulling energy into the air around him, the fog gathered, thickening as he ran, pouring out all around him and spreading outward. The uphill run soon had him gasping for breath as the effort of drawing energy into the fog drained his magic.

 _Can't keep this up for too long. Please tell me we're near the peak._ Merlin was well aware that adrenalin was the only thing keeping the exhaustion at bay.

Moments later, Gwaine stopped, grabbing Merlin's arm to keep his from stumbling on past him. "Highest ground we can get, mate. Now what?"

Still pouring energy into the fog, Merlin whispered the words. "Stay still and quiet. The slope of the land will lead them around us." He sat down right where he was and concentrated on maintaining the fog. It was a strange sensation, sitting on the rocky ground in the dark with clammy fingers of fog sliding along his skin and dampening his hair. He felt more than saw Gwaine shifting silently to stand over him. Now that they were not careening through the trees, the silence of the night settled on Merlin. He could hear the voices of the guards, first one then another, calling to each other.

The first four voices were at least fifty or as far as one hundred feet away, in various directions. The fifth voice caused Merlin to start. It was nearly on top of them, no more than ten feet away. One man did not have a torch! Merlin held his breath. He felt Gwaine step silently around him toward the voice and he reached up to set a hand on Gwaine's trouser leg. _Wait_ , he willed the young man. _Wait._

Gwaine paused. Footfalls crunched softly in the foggy darkness. Approached. Closer.

Came almost within touching distance.

Passed them.

Faded away.

Merlin released the breath he'd been holding and heard Gwaine do the same quietly. The young man, after many silent minutes spent listening to the sound of the searchers disappearing into the distance, sank down next to Merlin, shoulders touching.

"The fog is you?" he asked in the smallest of whispers.

"Yeah."

"I think you can stop now. I'm getting waterlogged."

Merlin ended the spell and flopped backward full length on the rocky ground. His body felt like lead. The fog began to dissipate, and he could see Gwaine as a silhouette standing against the stars. "Now we just have to get back to Camelot. And sneak back in." He sighed. "And then I'll sleep for a week!" He closed tired eyes - and it was the last thing he remembered for some time.

 **Author's note: Thank you for sticking with me - one more chapter! Those of you who were able and willing to review, double and triple thanks - you made my day.**


	23. Chapter 23 - Home

Emrys has made a clean getaway. Now Merlin needs to make his way back home. Last chapter!

 **In the Vaults of Camelot**

Chapter 23 – Home

Merlin awoke to find Gwaine shaking his shoulder and calling his name. At first he could not remember why he would have been sleeping under the stars on a rocky hillside.

"Sorry, mate," the young man said when Merlin mumbled a complaint, "but we'd probably better get moving. Not too long 'til morning." _Morning? Get moving? Oh, that's right. I got away._ He winced as recollection of the previous night's events struggled its way up from the depths of his sleepy brain. _Arthur's not going to be happy about the portcullis._

Merlin sat up, struggling to free himself from a constriction that turned out to be a cloak and two blankets wrapped tightly around him. He lifted his face to the dark sky. The trees were still black fingers against the stars, but the air had an indefinable feeling to it, as if the world held its breath for the coming dawn. _I must have slept for a couple of hours at least._

"How do you feel?" Gwaine asked. "Up for a hike?"

Merlin considered. He was blessedly warm, thanks to the blanket-and-cloak cocoon in which he had been wrapped. The sense of leaden exhaustion was much diminished due to the nap. He was still tired, but could certainly make his way home.

"Sure." He stood up and bundled up the blankets. They would fit easily enough into the pack he'd brought. Once they were stowed, Merlin swung the cloak around his shoulders and looked around him at the dark woods. "We'll need light for a while longer." A ball of blue light bloomed in his hand, and he nudged it up to float at shoulder level. "Shall we?"

Gwaine, not to be outdone, stripped the hood off his enchanted torch, clapped Merlin on the shoulder with a grin, and led the way through the night in the direction of Camelot.

-o-o-o-o-o-

After a time, false dawn yielded to true dawn, and the woods slowly filled with soft light. By this time, Merlin had related to Gwaine the events of the night before. The highlight of the story for Gwaine, evidently, was the moment in which Merlin decided to paralyse Arthur along with Leon and Tad.

"Wait. You froze Arthur?" the young man had interrupted. "Did you just say you froze Arthur?" Gwaine burst out laughing. "I don't remember that being part of the plan!"

"Well, no. But it gave him an excellent pretext for not ordering the guard out after me immediately. This way his father can't blame him."

"You're underestimating King Uther. He can blame anyone for anything. But I wish I'd been there to see it. Our princess turned into a statue. He must have been furious." Gwaine chortled delightedly just imagining the events.

Gwaine was still laughing periodically an hour later when the spires of Camelot came into view through the trees ahead. It was time to start paying attention to what they were doing, Merlin decided. He glanced aside at his companion. Gwaine had clearly come to the same conclusion. He had slowed down, and was staying under the trees, keeping leaf cover between himself and the view from the walls. _Good._

According to the plan, Leon would be waiting for them at a hidden entrance at the base of the keep. Merlin had kept a straight face with difficulty when Arthur had "revealed" the location of the hidden door, as he'd already availed himself of that door twice. Now he was sneaking back in through it again, though at least this time he was expected.

Gwaine and Merlin crept up to the edge of the tree cover and watched for the guards. Sure enough, a guard soon appeared, walking his rounds around the wall. He paused, looking out over the walls, and turned away to continue his route. As soon as the man disappeared from view, Gwaine grabbed Merlin by the sleeve and sprinted for the nondescript spot of wall that was the door. They plastered themselves up against the wall, backs pressed against the cool stone. Reaching over, Gwaine tapped softly on the stone with the hilt of his belt knife, trying to make just enough noise to be heard inside.

Moments later the sounds of a key in a lock could be heard from inside, followed by a scraping sound. A section of the wall creaked open a crack and an eye peered out at Merlin.

"In. Quietly," a familiar voice whispered. The door groaned as it opened further. Merlin slipped through, followed by Gwaine, and the door was pulled shut behind them. In comparison to the early light of the outdoors, the tunnel was as black as pitch. As he waited for his eyes to adjust, Merlin realized that while he could hear the sound of the door being secured against intruders, he could also heard voices. He turned in the direction of the sound. Ahead, at the end of the passageway, a tiny crack under the door let in the barest wisp of light. The voices were coming from the hallway on the other side of that door, where a conversation seemed to be going on. Then a flare of light lit the tunnel, revealing Leon with a torch in one hand and its magical hood in the other, one finger lifted to his lips. He tipped his head in the direction of the voices, then spoke in the softest of whispers.

"Welcome back. You're a bit later than I was told to expect you. I take it all did not go quite to plan?"

Not being sure how much Leon knew, and taking care not to be heard, Merlin responded quietly, "We were delayed a bit."

"I see." Leon's gaze flicked over Merlin in the wavering light of the torch. "You look exhausted." Too much a gentleman to press for details that were not forthcoming, he set the matter aside and returned to the situation at hand. "Prince Arthur has left orders that I inform him immediately when you arrive. Your instructions are to go straight to Gaius, Merlin, and Gwaine with you. His highness will meet you there." He glared half-heartedly at the door to the corridor and sighed, a sound of long-suffering patience. "When those two move on."

Puzzled, Merlin moved to the door and set his ear to it. The muffled sounds resolved into a pair of voices, one male and the other female, and after overhearing only a few words, the reason for Leon's sigh became clear. The topic of conversation was decidedly personal. This pair must have come to the basements for privacy and were not aware that they didn't have it.

Embarrassed, Merlin backed off until the voices blurred. He could feel his ears burning. Leon met his eyes with a sympathetic smile as Merlin slid down the wall to sit with his back against it. If they had to wait, he might as well get comfortable. He was tired. _Of course, I've been nearly this tired most of the time for at least a week. So right now, I'm taking advantage of the break. I'm going to just sit._

-o-o-o-o-o-

As soon as the lovers had moved on and the way was clear, Leon disappeared hastily out the door and down the hall, leaving Gwaine and a drowsy Merlin in his wake. Merlin looked up a Gwaine, who had come to stand over him, hand held out.

"I actually have to get up now, hmm?"

"Unless you want Arthur to arrive at Gaius' chambers and not find you there."

"There is that. And he's probably already annoyed that we're, what, two or three hours late?"

"Couldn't really be helped, mate. It was either let you nap in the woods or carry you all the way back to Camelot. Come on, up!"

Gwaine pulled Merlin to his feet, and they traversed the halls back to Gaius' quarters. Gaius must have been listening for footsteps in the corridors, for even as Merlin reached for the latch, the door opened and the physician stood framed in the doorway.

"Merlin," the old man said, "thank goodness." He drew Merlin into the room with a quick hug and nodded companionably to Gwaine as he motioned him into the room. "Are you two alright?"

Merlin was opening his mouth to answer when rapid footsteps in the corridor caught his attention. He turned around to see who was arriving only to be grabbed by both shoulders and shaken vigorously.

" _Mer_ lin." A shake. "A portcullis in pieces all over the causeway," another shake, "tales of a sorcerer with lights all around his head," yet another shake, "throwing the oaken bar for the outer gates halfway across town." Finally the prince stopped shaking him long enough for Merlin to see his face. Arthur looked worried sick and doing his level best to be angry instead. He took a deep breath, and continued. "And you are more than two _hours_ late."

Gaius broke in soothingly. "We were worried that you'd been captured. Or killed."

Merlin knew perfectly well that Arthur was not going to admit to having been worried. Still, Gaius' interruption had broken the prince's rhythm. His eyes settled on Merlin's face, and he seemed to actually see his servant for the first time since he had walked through the door. His expression changed, losing some of the anger.

"You look terrible." The words were spoken roughly,

"I'm fine."

"We're going to need to carve that on your gravestone one of these days."

"Arthur, I'm fine. Truly."

There was a pause. Arthur released Merlin and looked around him, and Merlin did the same. Gaius, during this interchange, had sent Gwaine up to Merlin's room for something and had himself withdrawn a bit, puttering at his table doing who knows what. _He's trying to give Arthur space to say what he needs to say,_ Merlin realized.

"You're fine? No thanks to my father. Or my knights. Or the cursed wyrms, floods, wolves or portals. Or even me. Merlin…" He paused, looked down at the floor, and drew another deep breath.

"Arthur, it's alright. I chose this."

"No. I need to make this right, or at least as right as it can be with things as they are. My father is alive because of you. I am aware that you took an enormous risk: not for him but for me. I'm grateful beyond words. And I am very glad that you are back safe. Gaius is right. I, well, I _was_ worried." Merlin was surprised, touched - and amused. His friend was trying so hard, but even so the words had come out sounding rough and short. "And if you tell anyone I said that, I _will_ put you in the stocks, sorcerer or not."

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur cut him off.

"Be quiet, Merlin." The prince nudged Merlin backwards. He had to step back to maintain his balance. His calves caught on an obstruction, and he found himself abruptly seated on Gaius' patient cot. Gwaine came clattering back down the stairs carrying the pillow and blanket from Merlin's bed, which the young man handed to Gaius.

Gaius came to stand over Merlin. "Merlin, you need to rest. Why don't you stretch out for a while?" He tossed the pillow onto the cot and began to shake out the thin blanket.

"Gaius, I'm fine."

All three of the faces surrounding him registered varying levels of disbelief.

"Why does nobody believe me?" he asked plaintively.

"You've said that quite a few times over the last two weeks, Merlin, and it's been untrue every time." Arthur's expression was more amused than not, but Merlin could see that he intended to be stubborn on the matter.

"I don't need to go to sleep." Even as he said the words, he heard the whine of a tired toddler in them. He amended, "I'm tired, yes, but not so much that I need a nap in the middle of the day."

Gaius did not appear convinced. He opened his mouth to reply, but Gwaine forestalled him. "If you lie down and rest, I bet we can convince Arthur to stay for a little while and tell us what happened while we were gone." Arthur rolled his eyes, but nodded nevertheless. Merlin slanted a hopeful look up at Gaius, who nodded reluctantly.

"Very well. I'll ask you to monitor him, Gwaine, and make sure he rests. I am late for rounds, and I must go." The old physician looked unhappy about that situation. "I'll come back and check on you later, Merlin, and will expect to find you here - _right here_ \- and _sleeping_." He shook out the blanket one last time and gestured for Merlin to lie down.

"Yes, Gaius." Merlin swung his legs up onto the bed, wadded the pillow under his head, and curled on his side so that he could see Arthur. The blanket settled softly over him.

Gaius started to turn to leave, then turned back to Merlin. "I'm very glad to have you back safe, my lad. Rest well." He patted Merlin's shoulder and then limped from the room.

As Gaius' footsteps receded down the hall, Arthur dragged a stool over next to Merlin's bed and settled on it. Gwaine plopped on the foot of the cot and scooted back to put his back against the wall, one boot braced on the wooden foot of the cot. He regarded Arthur expectantly and said with a grand and sweeping gesture of invitation, "So, my lord prince, you promised us a story."

"There's not actually a great deal to tell, Gwaine. After Merlin cast his spells - and _froze me_ , which was _not_ part of the plan-" This complaint set Gwaine off in gales of laughter, and Arthur had to raise his voice to be heard. "I could see that my father must have been talking to Gaius and that Gaius was responding, but we couldn't hear either of them through the barrier. After some time, I got loose-"

Merlin interrupted, "-you're cursed hard to hold on to, do you know that?"

Arthur ignored the interruption, "-but Tad and Leon were still trapped. I still couldn't hear Father, but spent a while pretending to try to break the shield. Then Tad and Leon just sort of gasped, simultaneously, and they were free."

"That was me trying to get past the soldiers on the portcullis. I needed to let go of Tad and Leon so I could concentrate on something else."

"Speaking of the portcullis, why is it in pieces all over the causeway?"

"Because nobody's been ordered to clean it up yet?"

" _Mer_ lin!"

Gwaine broke in. "What did King Uther do then?"

Arthur resumed the story. "Well, my father must have ordered Gaius to help him come to the doorway, because pretty soon there they were. Father could barely stand, and Gaius was half holding him up. He tried pounding on the barrier with his fist. Nothing, of course. I had already tried cutting it with a sword - you'd said that wouldn't work - and even hitting it with a chair. Father was shouting through the barrier, but I honestly couldn't hear. I think he was saying to order out the guard - but right about then the alarm bells started to ring and the barrier fell, almost simultaneously. Father had been leaning on it, and he just pitched right over into my arms. Gaius and I got him back into bed." Arthur sighed. "I am sorry to say that my father does not seem to be very grateful for his life. He was focusing on apprehending you. He seemed to think that I was tricked, somehow, that you were trying to manipulate me in some way. He is going to be furious when the last patrol comes back in with the news that the dread sorcerer Emrys escaped to parts unknown."

The prince scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Then he seemed to set the matter aside. With a mock glare, he returned to an earlier subject of conversation, "So, the portcullis?"

Merlin related the difficulties he'd had getting out of the castle, and the series of events leading up to the destruction of the portcullis.

"At that point, I knew that if I didn't get past the portcullis right then and there, I'd be captured. So I, well, I just blasted it. It's actually much easier to do that than to open the stupid thing, anyway."

Arthur stared for a moment, and shook his head wordlessly. He gestured for Merlin to continue. "From there on out, I wanted to be ostentatious, and I couldn't see where I was going anyway, so lots of lights just made sense - though I will tell you that Phillip didn't like them much. And as far as the bar on the outer gates, what else was I supposed to do with it? I didn't throw it half way across town - just down the street a ways. That way I knew I wouldn't crush anybody with it.

Arthur shook his head again, but this time with a smile. "Who is Phillip?" he asked.

"The horse we borrowed. Do you know if he made it home?"

Arthur's eyebrows climbed. "I have no idea what happened to your horse, Merlin."

"I can ride out later and check," Gwaine offered with a chuckle. "I'd imagine, though, that he showed up at the farm not long after he left us. I don't think he liked having pebbles thrown at him."

Remembering Phillip's affronted snort at the pelting, Merlin had to smile in agreement.

Gwaine took up the story. "Merlin made it to me, just barely. The patrol in pursuit would have passed us by entirely, but Phillip made enough noise that the patrol captain left five men to search the woods. We managed to elude the search party thanks to an enormous thick fog bank that came up just as we needed it." He gave Merlin a mischievous grin. "But by then Merlin was passed out on the ground. So it took us a while to get home."

Again footsteps sounded in the hall, and a polite knock on the door heralded Leon, who greeted his prince with all due ceremony and handed over a rolled piece of parchment and a small velvet bag.

"Leon, come join us," invited Gwaine, from his perch on Merlin's cot. "We're filling each other in on the events of the evening, including the fun part where Merlin turned his highness into a statue." Gwaine was clearly still tickled by that turn of events, but Merlin froze. Leon didn't know, or at least hadn't until just now.

He looked at Leon, worried about the knight's reaction. He found Leon's serene countenance puzzling. The knight didn't seem the slightest bit surprised. He must have said so aloud, for Leon responded, "Of course not."

Gwaine was staring at Merlin, and when Merlin turned to Arthur, he too was looking at Merlin strangely. "Merlin," the prince said, speaking slowly and softly, as if he were talking to a frightened animal, "Leon was there in the vaults when the wyrm stung you. All three of us saw who you were. Don't you remember?"

It hit Merlin like a battering ram then. Of course Leon knew - he'd seen Merlin's spectral form rise from the fallen one of Emrys, and then seen Emrys morph back into Merlin at his feet.

He stammered out an apology. It had been inexcusable not to have realized that he had probably given Leon the shock of his life and then to have gone on from there with no acknowledgment of that fact.

Leon politely let him finish and then responded, with an uncharacteristically impish smile, "Think nothing of it, Merlin. You see, I wasn't surprised that day either."

Arthur's head whipped around in surprise and Gwaine straightened abruptly. Leon took in their reactions, and his smile widened. "I've known for quite some time."

 _Leon already knew? How? When?_ Merlin's mind was spinning with questions, none of which could he articulate so great was his shock.

Leon chuckled at Merlin's expression but took pity on him and explained, "You gave yourself away, Merlin, one day when we were out in the woods. There was a man with a crossbow aimed at Prince Arthur's back. I saw him from across the clearing and as I was shouting a warning to the prince, I saw you. You'd gotten bowled over and were rolling in the leaves to get away from one of the bandits and you must have seen the crossbowman. You rolled up to your knees, and I could see your face. Your eyes glowed yellow, and a tree branch came down right on top of the man. His bolt flew high, and I don't think his highness ever saw it. But I had. You had magic, and I knew it. This left me in a bit of a dilemma."

"By law, I knew my obligations. I should report you, at the very least. Properly I should apprehend you. But to do either of those was to condemn you to death, when your use of magic had just saved the life of the prince. I chose just then to do nothing. I would wait. I would watch you like a hawk. And if I ever began to believe you were a threat in any way to Arthur, Uther, or Camelot, I would denounce you, though in doing so I would have to reveal my complicity in sheltering a sorcerer."

"So I waited, and I watched. And soon I was glad that I had, for that was only the first of many convenient tree branches to fall, rocks to fly with no hand upon them, roots to lift at just the right time - and always to protect your prince. And not only that," Leon turned his attention to Arthur. "Sire, you complain that Merlin doesn't know his place, but because of him you have begun to judge people as people, regardless of their rank. He calls you names, refuses orders, and yet you allow it because you know that behind the -ah- odd behavior is the most loyal heart in the realm."

Leon turned his gaze back to Merlin, who could feel heat prickling in his eyes. The knight said softly, meeting Merlin's eyes steadily, "Merlin, I know that you have Prince Arthur's best interests at heart. Keep protecting my prince and I will keep your secret. I have always believed that honorable and lawful should be the same thing, but I know that occasionally that is not the case. In this case protecting you is the right thing to do."

He turned his attention back to Arthur. "With your leave, sire, I should return to my duties."

Arthur nodded wordlessly with a bemused gesture that Leon must have taken to be a dismissal, for the knight bowed correctly and quietly took his leave.

Stunned silence filled the air. Merlin felt as if the very stone of the world had shifted under his feet. He looked over at Gwaine, wondering what his thoughts were on the matter, and nearly laughed aloud. The young man looked just as poleaxed as Merlin felt. He was staring after Leon with his mouth hanging open in shock, sitting in place as if frozen there. Arthur had steepled his hands and lowered his face until his forehead rested on his fingertips. Merlin could not see his expression until the prince raised his head again. His gaze swiveled from Merlin to Gwaine, a small smile bloomed, and then those keen eyes shifted back to Merlin.

"You didn't know either. Neither of you did."

Merlin was the first to wrap his tongue around the words. "I-well, I'd somehow missed that he'd have seen Emrys turn to me. But he'd known since way before that - I remember that day he's describing. That was such a long time ago, Arthur! And he never said a word. Never so much as hinted that he knew anything more about me than anyone else did."

Gwaine finally untangled his tongue. "I knew he knew, obviously. But I had no idea he'd known for so _long_." He ran a hand through his hair, beginning to laugh. "That man. Every time I think I've got him pegged, he goes and does something like this. He knew all along, and never told Uther. Never in a million years would I have predicted that."

"He's a good man, and an honorable one." Arthur's eyes were on the door that had closed behind the knight. "The king has asked him to do terrible things, I am sure. Leon's never said, but I suspect he's bent orders before to reconcile, as he put it, honor and law."

There was a thoughtful silence. Merlin had no inclination to break it. Through the high window that Gaius had thrown open to the summer warmth and sunlight, he could hear the sounds of the castle courtyard below against the backdrop of summer's birds and insects and the wind's sigh. It was peaceful.

Silence and peace, however, tended to be short-lived in Gwaine's presence, and this moment was no exception. "Merlin," he said, "remember that time Leon drew Arthur's attention away from the locked cell door?"

Merlin did remember it. Leon's timely distraction of Arthur had allowed Merlin to get the cell door unlocked under Cenred's castle. At the time Merlin had thought nothing of it. Looking back through his memories, there were other times - clues - now that he knew. Merlin could see similar realizations on the faces of both Gwaine and Arthur. Stories were exchanged, and Merlin's knowledge of Leon grew by leaps and bound while the sun slowly rose toward its zenith in companionable story-telling.

The day had grown warm, and the companionship was soothing. Merlin found himself growing drowsy. It should have come as no surprise when, in the middle of one of Arthur's anecdotes, the prince was interrupted by a snore. Merlin and Arthur looked over to see Gwaine asleep with his head dropped back against the wall and his mouth open.

"I don't think he got any sleep at all last night," Merlin explained ruefully. "I got a nap - and I suspect he stood guard over me the whole time. Best to let him sleep."

Arthur looked from the sleeping Gwaine to the closed door, and spoke. "Then this is a good a time as any. Merlin, I had something drawn up for you." Without ceremony, he handed the roll of parchment to Merlin, who held it, baffled.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see, idiot. I know you can read."

"But-"

"Merlin, open it!"

Merlin unrolled the parchment. The words within it made little sense to him. It seemed to be a writ declaring Merlin to be a freeman citizen of Camelot.

Arthur seemed to gather his confusion, and explained. "I know it's just a technicality. You're not indentured, and never were. But this places you officially on the rolls of Camelot's freemen, and communicates to the nobility that you have the favor of the crown. It's a stepping stone in the direction I want to go." He sighed. "Merlin, my father is, well, you know how he is. In this particular area, he is blinded by hate. I don't hold out any hope that I can change the laws on magic while he lives, barring some miracle. So, there's something else I have here for you." He took up the velvet bag and tugged the drawstring open. "This is yours as well. Again, it is a tangible symbol of royal favor." He nudged Merlin's hand open and dropped something small and heavy into it.

Merlin looked down at the weight in his hand. It was a ring of heavy gold, with two stones, one deep red and the other a vibrant green, cleverly cut so that they seemed to wrap around each other. The stones were bracketed by images carved deeply into the gold; the familiar Camelot lion to one side and something else on the other. Merlin looked more carefully. It was a griffin.

"Your insignia, one day," Arthur explained in an off-handed fashion. Then he continued with his explanation. "The ring also carries with it a promise from me. When I can, as soon as I can, we will do better for _all_ the people of Camelot. The laws on magic will be changed. People with magic will be governed by law just as people without it. I promise you, Merlin, it may take time, but it can and will happen."

Merlin was speechless. But could destiny truly be so simple?

The quiet confidence in Arthur's expression dimmed, and concern replaced it. "What is it, Merlin? I thought this would be something you would want."

"I do. More than anything."

"You don't seem sure. Is it that it's so far in the future? It is true that if all goes well, my father will be king for a long time."

"No, it's not that. I understand that it simply isn't possible right now, and may not be possible during King Uther's reign."

"Then what is it?"

"Arthur, why? Not that I'm not grateful - never that - but I need to know what has changed."

There was a tense silence. Then Arthur filled it, speaking softly but with an intensity that seared his words into Merlin's heart. " _I've_ changed, Merlin. I've learned. I've learned that whether a man has magic has nothing to do with whether he is honorable, kind, or loyal. I learned that from Broderick, from Emily, even from the necromancer that nearly killed me. But most of all I learned that from you. Magic and evil are not linked any more than magic and goodness are. Each man is his own creature, good, bad or indifferent, magic or not."

"And then there's you, Merlin. You have just spent the last two weeks sacrificing yourself, mind and body, for me and mine. You are the most loyal, kindhearted person I know - and you are Emrys. It shouldn't be illegal to be what you are. So one day I _will_ make this right."

There was a ringing silence. Deep inside, Merlin could feel a change in the fabric of the world. Something was coming into being. _Two sides of a coin,_ his mind whispered. _Destiny approaches._

He extended his hand to Arthur and was unsurprised when the prince grasped it in a warrior's clasp. "Together," Merlin responded softly. "We can do it together."

Another silence developed, this one a companionable one. Predictably, Arthur broke it to draw back from so vulnerable a conversation.

"But not right now. Right now you are going to do as Gaius ordered. You are going to lie back and sleep."

Merlin opened his mouth to object and instead a yawn escaped him.

"See?"

Merlin was tired enough that he was not willing to argue. Curling his fingers protectively around the ring, he wriggled into a more comfortable position, trying not to kick the sleeping Gwaine in the process. He closed his eyes, hearing Arthur rise from his stool and begin wandering the room, as if to give him space. Quickly, the peaceful sounds from the outdoors and the familiar sound of Gwaine's snores lulled him into relaxation.

On the very edge of sleep, Merlin heard footsteps approach his cot. There was a rustling of cloth as the blanket was pulled up to Merlin's chin and tucked around him. Then, to Merlin's muzzy surprise, a warm strong hand settled briefly on his shoulder, and Merlin heard quiet words that he took with him into sleep. "Rest well, my friend."

The End

 **Dear Readers,**

 **Thank you for sticking with me all the way to the end! I hope you've enjoyed the story, such as it is. I could not be more grateful for all of you, and most especially you who've supported me with reviews. They make such a difference!**

 **And Trekmel, thank you so much for all your hours on Google Docs with me, your comments, your ideas, and your questions. Words can't convey how much it all means to me!**

 **Thank you all again - you're the best!**

 **Respectfully,**

 **Vanvdreamer**


End file.
